Threads
by jazelock
Summary: An experiment into deconstruction and self-awareness. An evil sorceress, a thirst for excitement, and rumors of a monster in the castle. Fire, meet snow. Characters, meet author. Nanowrimo 2009.
1. Prologue

Autumn was the season of fire, Axel reflected, not summer. It was true, that summer contained the heat of the year, but it was a sweltering, sticky, invasive heat that clung to the skin and oozed distasteful sweat from every pore. The heat of fire was dry and crackling, just how he liked it, an inferno against the skin that sucked all moisture in its path with wild swirls of red and yellows. Autumn. Axel trailed a bony finger on the ground between his outstretched legs, stirring crisp leaves with a sound his ears found familiar and comforting. Heaven help him, his life stood in balance tonight. An unhappy sneer curled his lips. If not for his gift, the village would have banished him long ago. They had tried, oh, he remembered they had tried and he had very patiently sat outside their gates until a wayward spark from some poor fool's fireplace had lit through the air. Autumn with its dry leaves and tinder, just waiting for the right breath of life. He had been there when the crying villagers tumbled outside and begged him to coax the fire down.

Axel could not control flame; the wildness was not his to tame. He could soothe it however, stroke it down just as a priest with a flattering tongue standing before the altar of some hungry god. Keep it occupied long enough for the cowering townspeople to lug buckets and tubs of water from the creaking well. It ran dry a year after that and Axel enjoyed comforts he had not seen previously when the nearest source of water then became the creek a good half league away. But now…Axel clenched a fist, stared at the pale bone stretching the thin skin of his knuckles. Now he had to shout to make himself heard, when before a cooing whisper as to a lover was all it took. The flames were not listening anymore; they were losing something, sentience perhaps, or maybe learning a different language that he had yet to master. And as more and more houses burned despite his efforts, though only to save himself, calculating glances that he felt more than saw began to flitter about him. Oh, he did not have to guess what the town meeting tonight was for, nor even what their decision would be. He had very little to prepare; Axel owned very little himself, which necessitated his survival on the grudgingly given goodwill of others. A few gold pieces to his name, bits of silver, a slightly crooked blade, and the clothes on his back. All of which, he already always carried on his person. Just as the village hated him and distrusted this young rogue that they would rather do without, he rendered the feeling mutual. It amused him to no end to see the helpless fury as he partook of their food, seduced and rejected the hearts of their daughters and, yes, some of their sons. And tonight they would finally wreak their vengeance.

He stood. While there was the possibility of slipping away now, while it was still light, before his exile was made official, his curiosity to hear the accusations they would fling at him held him back. Axel thought he would enjoy the night; yes, staying was reckless, dangerous, but he possessed a thirst for thrills. Stay he would and tomorrow's light would see his departure and good riddance on both ends. What came next would be a different and more difficult matter.

"Axel?"

Little Xion. Well, perhaps, not so little; she was after all of age, otherwise they would have thrown him out, wildfires or no. Deceptively delicate, she had surprised him by firmly replying to his callous words the morning after, "I don't care. I will still seek you out when it is my fancy to do so, if only because you need some_one_ who will not poison your meals."

"Xion. What would the elders think if they were to see you approaching me now of all times?" He leered at her.

"That I am bringing you your last meal, possibly," she retorted calmly. Indeed, she had, and Xion had also not changed one bit.

"Many thanks for that," Axel said lightly and stretched out a hand to indicate the bare ground around him. "Please. Sit."

He guessed correctly that she would not refuse. "Tell me what you've been up to, little lady. I'm dying to know how you've occupied your time without my degrading influence."

Xion shrugged one shoulder and Axel allowed himself to admire the delicate collarbone that he knew oh so well the feel of when the skin was being sucked to bloom between his teeth. "I'm engaged."

Axel blinked. "Congratulations." It was a rare thing, but then Xion had never been one of the weeping, pining girls that made up his list of past nightly partners. Of those, the ones who eventually recovered from their self-proclaimed broken hearts, few were courted. It was not that the young men of the village minded so much as the potential in-laws did. "Do I know the lucky young man?" He smiled unpleasantly.

She glanced sharply at him and he had the distinct feeling that she knew exactly what he was implying. "No. You might have seen him in the village, but I believe you two have never formally met."

"Then I wish you a life of contentment and the best of luck, Xion." Perhaps it was mere vanity on his part, but it pleased him when the way he said her name made the girl shiver barely noticeably. Pursing her lips, Xion sat up straighter and looked him in the eye. "Axel, where are you going to go?"

This hit him disagreeably. He had thus far managed to avoid thinking too hard about what he was going to do after leaving this godforsaken place. But his twisted sense of honor demanded he give her at least a fairly decent answer out of the respect he extended to her as one of few. Axel did not shift his eyes away as he answered truthfully, "I'm not sure."

"You could stay in the vicinity." 

Axel snorted. "Depending on your good will for food and shelter in winter? Xion, dear, have you really thought that through? I highly doubt your beau would condone such an arrangement."

Xion flushed. "He might. He doesn't have the same prejudices as everyone else."

"Is he tolerant to the point of secretly taking in the notorious black sheep of the village? No, thank you, darling, for the offer, but I'll make my own way. You'll be hearing rumors about me from the next town onwards before too long." Neither of them betrayed the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

It was when Axel was tossing the apple between his hands, debating between consuming it then and there or saving it for the journey that was sure to come the next morning that Xion spoke again. "It's not just you, Axel. They're all worried about other things too." Xion's grandfather being one of the village elders led to amazing perks of information. She looked down at her hands. "Grandmother says that the magic is fading. She says that the world is losing its color."

"Is that right. And what exactly is your grandmother, a proponent of: the castle theory or the heart theory?" Axel was skeptical about both of the old stories people told about how "magic" had come to be in the world. Once upon a time, hearts were filled with light and only light. All people had the magic and lived in utter harmony with the world. Then people began to covet the powers and desire to rule over each other with this means in mind. They bore darkness in their own hearts and then the darkness began to spread, creeping into the corners of each and every heart. The world then, to save its people, took away the magic and only sparingly dealt it out to the worthy. Yeah. Right. Every time he heard that one, Axel would laugh and point at himself as the ultimately proof that it was false. He was worthy, sure.

That had been _the_ story. Then an offshoot began spreading that magic was not a result of light, but of darkness. Magic had disappeared utterly from the land until some years ago, when a heart of pure darkness was born to the queen. The creature became the center point from which magic emanated, and throughout the kingdom, people slowly became infected by this darkness. In fear, the queen and king summoned an enchanter to construct for them a moving castle that was placed in the sky. They locked the creature away in it and sent the entire building off, praying for the best. Which, he supposed, made a lot more sense in explaining why his affinity for fire was weakening. And it certainly explained why such a wicked rogue as he had the power in the first place.

"Neither, exactly." 

"Such blasphemy. Does your grandfather know of this outrageous belief and coming from the mouth of his very wife too?"

Xion ignored him. "Last night she said that the stars were pointing out the castle. But she says that the…thing in there is not pure darkness, but pure light. But as the castle moves farther and farther away, the land is falling silent and if it reaches the end of all things, magic will be gone forever."

"I'm sure your village would be very happy at that prospect. Now, don't lie to me. You know perfectly well that my outlandish behavior is not the only thing they object to. Look at Demyx. Paragon of virtue, but lo and behold, he has the gift, so thus he becomes a pariah no matter how virginal he may act."

"Axel, I think you should leave tonight then if you are unwilling to accept my offer. The villagers know something's wrong, but they won't listen to Grandmother. I'm afraid they might find a scapegoat in you."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. Thank you for the invitation…and the meal." Axel stretched in an uncouth manner he knew drove elders crazy and stood, brushing leaves off his coat. He paused. The wind whistled past his ear and sent a chill down his back. It was bitterly cold.


	2. Loomings

Laughably enough, the evening was dark as pitch and the villagers had to carry lit lamps and torches in order to hold their precious meeting. In the shadows, hood pulled up to conceal his revealing hair, Axel watched with a growing sense of interest. The villagers certainly had many accusations to make against him, but he smirked when a sense of awkwardness seized those who were called upon first and they had to be cajoled and prodded to speak. Tales of brokenhearted daughters and heated charges of the red-haired devil infringing upon property and food. "Why should we have to toil and part of our shares be used to feed him? What has he done for us recently?" They pointed out half-burnt, now unoccupied houses as evidenced and Axel noted that no one mentioned the possibility of the houses being razed entirely to the ground if he had not been there. Then again, there was a reason he referred to most of the people present as ungrateful wretches, so there was no surprise there.

"How do we know he's not starting the fires himself?"

"My house burnt to the ground last week and there was fire nowhere near it! And somehow that witch managed to appear just in time to put on a show of _trying_ to stop the flames!"

Xion's grandfather and the other elders appeared to be making no attempt to stop the building riot.

"He's been calling on the Devil's power! I saw him consorting with the horned demon himself on the last full moon." At that, Axel had to quickly disappear deeper within the shadows and have a stifled laughing fit.

When someone proposed, however, seeing if the fire demon was able to burn, Axel recognized this as his cue to melt into the shadows for the night. He weaved his way through darkened streets, humming to himself at the sound of yells for his blood. He was, perhaps, a little more on edge than he'd care to admit for when a hand fell on his shoulder, Axel whipped around with a curled fist and a hand pulling his dagger halfway out of its scabbard. When he saw it was only Xion, he sighed and slid the dagger back in until hilt met sheath. "You do know your grandfather will disown you if he finds you out here with me."

"I won't see you again, will I?"

"Most likely not, darling. Take care of that pretty face." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and waved carelessly. "Do be sure you're on the right side of the wall when you close the gate after me, dear. Wouldn't want you caught outside and having to explain things, hm?" He ducked out of sight.

Someone' house caught on fire that night, nothing of his doing, contrary to mob belief. He watched the blaze from a safe distance away and observed the many silhouettes running towards the creek with all forms of watertight containers. Wondering how many of the fire fighters were looking for him and cursing his name, Axel settled back against the inward curve of the tree and waited. Eventually, very eventually, the red glow faded and dark shades of violet colored the night once more. Axel did not close his eyes, kept very still and watched purple lighten and dawn began to color the clouds a light orange before he stirred.

If he looked, he could just pick out the hazy grey of smoke curling into the sky. Axel stayed where he was, thinking, even as the sun crept dangerously higher and higher. The entire village was likely to be sleeping soundly, a good few hours left before they began to arise. He thought about Xion, and her beau, he thought about fire, and he thought about the long stretch of life that lay before him. In his mind, the path lay shadowed and dark, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not realistically imagine what lay ahead. A chill morning wind breezed across his face.

From not too far away, faint exotic notes bourn on the wind made it to his ears. Axel opened his eyes. For once, a sincere smile actually made it to his face. Minutes later, he was walking briskly along the stream that ran a curve surrounding the village. The idle melody grew louder as he approached. "Greetings, Dem."

Demyx nodded, but it was hard to tell whether it was in acknowledgement of Axel's presence or part of his unconscious bobbing and swaying to his music. His eyes were closed and his fingers guided wiry plectrums across the strings. Axel, used to the musician's ways, sat, carefully out of the way of the neck of the instrument. Experience had taught him that getting smacked in the face by a sitar tended to leave him sore and still unnoticed by the player. The notes crept higher and Axel watched as the rushing water seemed to waver in the light. Reflections shivered and then evened out again as the stream continued running its way. Demyx struck a few more strings, the notes now falling in a steep depression, and sighed. "Hello, Axel." He lowered the neck of his sitar and placed it lengthwise across his lap, trailing a fond hand along the intricately carved wood.

"Still as tuneful as ever, I see."

The blond shook his head, eyes now open but fixed upon some point in the waters that Axel could not see. "It doesn't matter. They can't hear me anymore. Sometimes…sometimes accidentally I'll happen upon some melody that catches their attention for the briefest of moments. But never for long. It's the same with you, isn't it?"

Axel snorted. "It's the same with everyone who has ever been like us. I'm just noticeable because my gift was the only thing keeping me useful to them."

Demyx's fingers were never still, soft broken notes emanated from his sitar still in occasional strings. "It's not just you. We…something's changing." He finally looked up, eyes a clear blue-green and filled with worry. "Darkness. Some of us are saying it's the darkness getting stronger, infecting people's hearts like a disease, changing them."

"Worrying that they'll be after you next?"

"They are." Demyx looked at him questioningly. "You were at the meeting last night, weren't you?"

"I left when they started chanting for my blood. Rest assured, though I may have shared a bond with fire, but I have no particular desire to be close enough to burn."

"I shouldn't need to ask this, but you know about the fire that started last night?"

"If that is meant to imply that I had anything to do with it…"

"Xion's grandmother died last night."

Oh. Axel fell silent. Demyx was continuing, "I don't think they meant to, but after you left and they couldn't find you, some particularly bloodthirsty people began talk about smoking out the rest of us. I fled before they could get started, but someone apparently stormed their house with such an intention in mind and lifted a torch too high. I wish I could say for certain it was an accident, but…"

"Who all is there?" Axel, to his slight chagrin, only knew of Demyx as a fellow outcast; due to his hitherto special privileges, he had made sure to revel in them for as long as he could. He had had no desire of making the acquaintance of any potential companions because, well, then he had had no need of belonging to any group of people with similar predicaments.

"There's me. They were saying that Xion's grandmother was one, hence…you know. I'm pretty sure that baker's daughter was one, but the family left some moons ago. Oh. I think it's just me." Demyx had paled through his tan as the implications of that sank in.

"At the risk of sounding incredibly cheesy and a common whore at that," Axel remarked dryly, "run away with me." Demyx immediately began demurring, but Axel was insistent. "And I'm leaving before the early morning farmers arm themselves with pitchforks, so unfortunately I cannot give you the option of thinking it over. But what are you going to accomplish by staying here? Of course, this is assuming they do not drive you out soon after my departure."

"Where were you thinking of going?"

This time, Axel did have an answer. He gave a lazy grin. "Castle chasing."

Demyx was a romantic, even if he did not proclaim himself as such. Which is why he did not immediately laugh in Axel's face at the notion of chasing after a flight of fancy. That, and that the act of laughing in a proven pyromaniac's face seemed to be a foolhardy and injurious action. He did start in on the dangers of such a journey and the foolishness of approaching a monster made completely of darkness instead of running away from it. Demyx was also a certified coward, in Axel's esteemed opinion.

"I'm a musician, Axel. I sing tales about heroes; I don't go off seeking adventure myself."

"Well, then you'll be the first bard, sitarist to do so. And you're not seeking adventure; you're coming with me away from this godsforsaken village that's going to kick you out on your rump."

"Have you any idea of the tales told about the wilderness between the center of the kingdom and the castle? And I'm not even going to mention the journey that will have to be made to the center first before any of that begins. Those who've dared traverse the enchanted wild betwixt and between return changed for their toils. Tales of feral and twisted creatures that care for no law of animal or man, but merely obey their own hungers for destruction. Unseen portals that may appear anywhere and anytime that lead to realms of unimaginable terror. And the journey that grows longer as each sun sets with the castle drifting further and further away from the mortal realm."

"Spare me the poetics, Demyx. Are you coming?"

Demyx looked up at the sky with what was clearly intended to be an exasperated expression. "I suppose you will induce me forcefully if I do not agree."

Axel shrugged. "We would have to come to that point to see what I would do then, wouldn't we?"

"Yes, yes, Odin help us. Let me collect my worldly possessions and I pray the gods keep us safe from danger."

"I don't." Axel's smile flashed too brightly and displayed too many gleaming teeth.

Axel disappeared briefly and made Demyx wait by the stream while he apparently went on an errand of "utmost necessity". He reappeared within minutes, and tossed a knapsack identical to the one strapped across his back. Demyx caught it with difficulty; the knapsack was not empty. "Where'd you get all—?"

The redhead cut him short with a wave of the hand. "I don't care, and you don't want to know. Heaven's help, you actually have a conscience."

They waded through the creek with little difficulty although Axel actually shuddered as he stepped into the water. The cold wetness seeped through every layer of clothing he had on and he bared his teeth in disgust at the feeling. Demyx was grinning at him, soaked to the skin, and _enjoying_ it. Annoyance forced him to keep moving and he somehow tumbled out on the other bank, mud and snips of grass clinging everywhere.

"Odin bless, Axel, you sure you'll be able to make it as far as the castle like this?" Demyx taunted.

"Let's see you walk through an inferno then."

Demyx hummed. He was acting surprisingly nonchalant and unconcerned considering the days ahead. Then again, the thought that their quest would inevitably fail might be giving him a macabre sense of peace. More power to him then. "Tales say I won't have to. Unless, of course, new perils have popped up on the trail since someone last walked through them."

"Maybe the fire killed them all," Axel said viciously.

"Maybe. You up for this?"

A long stretch of trees loomed before them. Axel looked up at the towering branches and leaves overhead. They swayed violently in a sudden wind as if sensing his thoughts. Ah, flammability. "Definitely." He absently fingered his pouch, feeling the sharp edges of the flint through the thin cloth.

Demyx glanced at him in concern. "Axel…"

"Relax. Would I really do that to you?"

"Yes."

"Ye of little faith."

Truth be told, the forest made him uneasy. He remembered arriving in the village some years ago—almost five years ago now, had it really been that long—young, as cocky as they come, and there had definitely been no forest, at least one that he had had to pass through on his way here. And no, he was not senile quite yet. So either the forest had grown disturbingly rapidly in the last five years, or something so traumatic had happened to him as a teenager amongst the trees that he had completely blocked out the entire memory. Foreshadowing, foreshadowing. Not.

Also, he quickly came to realize exactly how little light and how much moisture a forest contained. Even with the onset of autumn, the bed of leaves on the ground did not crackle underfoot but sank. The wood of the trees was not yet dry, trunks still healthy and not desiccated and withered. Still potential firewood, but Axel did not feel comforted that the trees were still alive and, if he believed Demyx and Xion's grandmother, possessing some measure of sentience. Those creaking branches looked particularly claw-like and menacing.

Demyx, damn him, was strolling along, and Axel had decided by now that the man had to be suicidal.

"Axel, can you feel it?"

"This entire army of wood wanting to claw my eyes out. Yes, Demyx, I can feel the malice directed at me from every direction."

Demyx leaned back against the tree he was nearest to. "Axel, you're imagining that. Besides, if you would stop thinking about everything you meet or see in terms of how well they burn..."

"Demyx, be quiet."

They both stood stock still for several frozen moments.

"Axel, I don't hear anyth—" It came again, just as softly, but Demyx's ears prickled this time. "Oh gods."

A soft skittering of rocks came again, just as quietly, never growing louder. Axel began backing up against a tree, then thought better of it. One hand groped for his pouch, undid the drawstrings clumsily, and gripped the reassuring flint. A sharp edge scraped his finger and the cautious shuffling somewhere within the forest stopped mid-sound. Axel and Demyx looked at each other uneasily.

Something roared and they began hurrying, leaping over tree roots, yanking each other up when the other slid on wet leaves, cursing. They ran, backpacks banging painfully against their spines with each stride. Then Demyx crashed headlong into…Axel stopped short just behind the musician and stared. There were thin white strands of wispy thread _everywhere_. A shade of green tinged his face. He was no arachnophobe, but if this place had giant spiders… "Demyx, come on, get up." That's when he noticed what Demyx had hit his head on. Throughout the mess of white, wrapped casings of the same color hung from thickly twined threads. The one nearest them swung back and forth gently, slowly coming to a rest as Demyx scrambled away from it. His eyes were wide. "What is that?"

Axel's instinctive thought was that they were bodies, dead more likely than not, wrapped up and hung for an afternoon snack someday. Of course, the conclusion he immediately drew from that caused his stomach to turn. Then he realized that the shape was wrong; that was no human or mammalian body inside. The silken wrappings were too even, the shape too smooth and rounded. And the threads were silk, just not spider silk, but… "Demyx, keep running."

Some of the cocoons on the far end were swaying. In respective slits, threads were beginning to split apart and rustling could be heard from the inside of the casings. Demyx stopped, resisting Axel's impatient pull on his shoulder. "Axel! They could still be alive!"

"That's what I'm worried about!" Axel snapped.

"But-!"

"Come _on_!"

Axel had lost track of how long they were running; all that remained was the monotonous pounding of his blood in his ears, and aching muscles that longed to just give out. He couldn't breathe properly, taking in short gasps of air. The end of the forest was nowhere near if he had to judge from appearances. How many minutes had they been running? Five? Ten? Everything still looked the same, minus the large silent cocoons they had left behind some time ago.

"Axel." He barely recognized his own name, Demyx wheezing it out with painful breaths. They stopped, Axel waiting for his pumping blood to calm. So far, all was now silent. Then in a flurry of flying leaves, a white moth, horrifically disproportioned, burst from the foliage and flew straight for their heads. Axel yanked his arm back, narrowed his eyes, and threw a rock at it. His aim was off. Instead of smashing into the mutated creature's head, it ripped a gaping shred from the wing. With a loud thump, the moth fell mid-flight and crashed to the ground back-first where it lay, legs and wings fluttering helplessly. Axel smiled grimly, drew his dagger, and began making his way towards the thing for a merciful dealing of a quick death.

Three more burst from the trees and he swore, throwing himself backwards. "Demyx!" The blond squeezed his eyes shut, mumbled a very quick apology, and swung as hard as he could. A moth flew in the opposite direction as it collided with the sitar to produce a very unmelodic twang of strings. Demyx winced. Little tufts of white hair clung to the strings and he grimaced, gingerly attempting to flick away the offending objects. That objective was abandoned when a second blur of white shot towards him from above. His sitar collided with the tree and the moth with the sound of splintering. A splatter of yellow and smashed body decorated the tree trunk as Demyx whined and drew his sitar away. Axel meanwhile was having little difficulty now slicing through his opponent's wings one on one. As it lay twitching on the ground, Axel slammed his dagger up to the hilt and dragged open the moth's head. A spray of yellow blood hissed as the moth's limbs beat frantically against him and the ground. Axel waited until the frenetic lashing stopped before pulling his weapon out with difficulty. A trail of black and yellow strained and followed in a thin strand before snapping and falling in a line of beads. Axel quickly dismembered each of the other dying moths in the same way. For his trouble, a few of the kicking legs scraped his face and he flinched. The stiff hairs on the spindly legs were sharp. Demyx was sadly cradling his sitar when he finally stood, groaned, and stretched. Axel knelt, wiping his blade on the wet leaves, grateful for the dampness for the first time.

"You look terrible."

Axel glanced upwards. Demyx looked relatively composed, a few stains of yellow dotted his clothes, but other than that and his hair hanging in sweaty strands, he appeared to have suffered no other aftermaths of the battle. "Wish I could say the same of you. How's the sitar?" He caught sight of thin fragments of wood poking out the side of the instrument and winced sympathetically. "Forget I asked that."

Demyx plucked a string tentatively, expecting no great result seeing as how his finger was bare of mizrab, but the broken echo that emitted from the instrument made his heart clench in pain. "I'm not sleeping here tonight." He looked up at Axel, ready for the heartfelt agreement he was sure would be evident on the other's face. Demyx blinked. And involuntarily screamed.

Axel, fairly certain his face was not to blame, looked behind him in dread. Trees. "Dem…?" By chance, a glimpse of white caught his eyes and his gaze traveled upwards. His mouth dropped open, but he did not bother with words. He began backing up, slowly at first before tripping into a stumbling run, turning his back on the horror. "Demyx!" The sitarist sat stock still against his tree, hugging his sitar against his body. His eyes were fixed directly upwards, and Axel saw that they were beginning to crawl down every tree in the vicinity. Roughly, he hauled Demyx to his feet and began a jerky run.

Fortunately, the bulging silkworms were not fast, hauling, as they were, bloated bodies upon sagging feet. But Axel and Demyx still dared not stop. Who knew what giant silkworms were actually capable of, but it was more the confrontation with these things of nightmares that kept their legs running and lungs heaving. As they flew past trees and the greenery blurred in their vision, more and more shapes of white began appearing before them. Axel tripped, shot out both hands to catch himself, and his hands sank into yielding flesh. It roared directly in his ear as skin stretched and burst. Hot slime splattered his face. Axel dared not look at his hands, nor down at the dying silkworm, just dug his boots harder against the ground and scrambled upwards. They burst into the light, and Axel let go of Demyx and turned. Demyx's momentum carried him forward before he fell to his hands and knees. "Axel, what are you doing?"

Axel did not answer him, but bent and began sweeping together a small bundle of dry twigs and leaves. It was better out here, where the sun could actually reach the ground; the tinder was already roasted dry.

"Axel?"

Demyx was beginning to sound panicked. Axel sighed and called over his shoulder, "Dem, stay back."

He eyed the small curved cage of small dried sprigs. It would have to do. Axel fumbled for his flint, praying gratitude that it had not fallen from his open pouch through all of the falling and dashing he had done. A clash of steel and rock, a spray of sparks. Axel watched the ball of twigs intently, muttering coaxes and threats beneath his breath. A second try returned the same results: the satisfying shooting of little fire fetuses, but not one caught within the nest of kindling.

"Axel!"

"Shut up, Demyx," he breathed. Little glimmers of white appeared sporadically in his outer vision, but he ignored them. Third try lucky, a spark drifted lazily into the waiting bundle and Axel held it to his mouth and whispered. His eyes lifted to the trees before him as he cajoled and tried to reach the tiny spark that was stubbornly fading into darkness. Eyes distracted by the first dark pincer-like mouth emerging from the forest, straight towards him, Axel barely felt the tiny curl of smoke that puffed from the tiny bundle. Still huddled over on the ground, knees bent, he carefully placed the precious handful before him, on the ground, never breaking in his soft litany.

With a roar that could not have been made from any normal vocal cords, the silkworm reared and spat a string of white. Axel dodged as the sticky strands of silk flew towards him. Loose wafting strands caught and clung to his hair, but he didn't dare stop to deal with that in any way. Lips still moving, he glared up into the dark sunken eyes. As the pincer mouths opened and spread wide to engulf and smother its hapless victim, the flames that had been unobtrusively smoldering away blazed upwards in a very differently toned roar. Axel smiled widely, reveling in the blast of heat that assaulted his face and effectively hit the silkworm in the face. Its many legs slammed the ground as its upper body thrashed and fell backwards.

In this carefully executed dramatic scenes, Axel finished enjoying watching the hungry flames begin consuming its way inward, stopping silkworms in their tracks as the wall of heat moved towards them. Branches began catching on fire with the hissing and spitting of a wet cat and wet wood.

"Thought the flames were getting harder to reach."

Axel finally snapped out of his reverie and began backing away on his knees. "It's harder to get the flames to calm down. These babies just leap at the chance to bloom. Oh, this is absolutely disgusting." He had begun to reach for his hair to clear it of the webbed silk, but stopped as soon as he caught a glimpse of his hands covered in dark, almost blackened, green rivulets. His face began turning the same shade. He hadn't noticed in the, pardon the pun, heat of the moment.

"AXEL!" Demyx leapt forward and yanked him out of the way as the blackened flaming corpse twisted and slammed into the ground—before the very spot Axel had been kneeling a second ago. Charring edges of skin were beginning to tear outwards to reveal the green innards. Demyx stared, unable to tear his eyes away, even as his fingers frozenly unclenched from Axel's arms. Axel shrugged him off completely and began wiping his hands on the leaves. Funnily, now that he needed them wet, they were now dried and curling from the heat. He really needed to get gloves sometime. "Think you could conjure up some water, Dem?"

"Not with that going." Demyx nodded at the flames. "Congratulations on starting a forest fire."

Axel smirked, twisting his neck around to look over his handiwork. The sun was beginning to set _had it not even yet been a day_ and the colors splashed across the sky complemented the leaping tongues of flame dancing through the forest. "Thanks."

They agreed to keep watch on the forest through the night. Demyx, reluctantly.

"Why can't we move farther away?"

"What, are you scared of the worms or the flames?"

Demyx maintained his argument that sleeping so close to a wildfire that could and probably would roast them alive was one of the most foolish ideas he'd ever heard. "And I've heard quite a few of them through the years." Demyx held the same distrust towards the element opposing the one he possessed an affinity for that Axel did towards water. But Axel refused to move out into the open stretch of land that lay before them. "Anything mutated and malicious within leagues' distance would come running as soon as they saw us."

Ultimately, Axel won the argument, although they did move further away from the quickly lengthening shadows thrown by the newly skeletal trees. The angry crackling of the fire could still be heard as it moved deep within the forest. Demyx thought about the many cocoons that hung inside and the moths roosting above them in the foliage. Although moths didn't live very long anyways, did they? But then again, these were no natural insects… "I've never heard of such creatures. No bard or explorer has ever told such tales, and you would think they would have."

Axel shrugged carelessly, unfolding blankets that were now missing from someone's house back in the village and laying them out on the ground. "Maybe the experience was so devastating they have no desire to speak of it. If their memories have not blocked it out already. Maybe none who've ever encountered the creatures survived." He flashed a feral grin.

"Lovely, Axel."

In the night, the sudden thought occurred to Axel that he was spending a lot of time watching fire consume places he'd just passed through in the darkness. Sleep did not come naturally to him, but the intoxicating scent of clean smoke, untarnished by the unnatural blends of spice that often accompanied the smoke from sacraments back in the village, lulled him through the night into daylight.

"Sleep well?"

Axel sat up in a very uncharacteristic mood. His mind felt clouded and when he looked upon Demyx, the blond's clothes and skin clean again, he felt as if he were observing over his own shoulder. "Where'd you find water?"

"I think the stream curves around. There's a small pool forming not far from here." Demyx watched his curiously. "Are you all right?"

"Yes…" He gazed raptly at the smoke blooming against the clouds. So caught up in the shifting grey, Axel jumped when Demyx yanked him around by the shoulder. Demyx stared at Axel. "Gods above, you're sloshed."

"No, 'm not."

Demyx stared into eyes that were barely green anymore, a dilated circle of black obliterating the color almost entirely, and repeated stunned, "Yes, you are. You're sloshed."

Axel began a protest, pulling his arm away when Demyx slapped him hard across the face. A splash of water accompanied the move. The bitter coldness of the water more than the pain wrenched his mind from the euphoric cloud of…whatever it had been. "What in hell, Demyx?"

"Oh good, he lives," Demyx commented sarcastically before splashing him again. Axel, by now, had completely recovered and really did not appreciate the second attempt at drowning him _ok so he exaggerated_ coming so close on the heels of the first. Demyx realized that fact a few moments later and his exasperated expression gave way to one more of sheepish horror. "Uhh…good, you're not acting half intoxicated anymore?"

Axel reminded himself that it was not a good idea to strangle the musician, seeing as how the man was the closest person he had to a friend right now. That, and his official go-to person for bailing him out of possible sticky situations such as enchantments or traps and the like. And fine, Demyx had grown on him a bit and suffocating him would result in, he was fairly certain, quick insanity, as he would have to provide both sides of a conversation. Either that or stay silent, which would more than likely lead to the same result.

So he opted for rubbing at his clouded eyes and yawning. "It's the smoke."

"I did tell you we should have moved further ahead."

"Demyx, nothing happened."

"_Axel_, you were behaving as if possessed by an incredibly lethargic spirit. Don't forget that smoke probably has some form of silkworm essence in it, if not remnants of whatever magic caused those things to change in the first place."

Oh. Yes, Demyx was definitely helpful in yanking him out of enchantments then, if that indeed was the case. "All right, so are we moving on?"

"You want to stay here?" Demyx was rolling up his bedding as he spoke.

"Well, it's not so bad. We're still alive." As Demyx turned to cast an incredibly disbelieving stare at him, certain that Axel was really bespelled out of his mind, Axel chuckled. "Demyx. Sarcasm. Ever heard of it?"

"If I hadn't before, I think I will in the days to come…" Demyx's eyes turned distant. "That pool of water is getting bigger."

"Bigger?" Axel did not like what that word entailed for a large body of the substance he was really really not fond of.

"Axel, calm down. It's not going to engulf the land in an unexpected wave. We…you could wash up there and we can refill our waterskins."

"Give me a moment." Ignoring Demyx's immediate objections of "Axel, don't go _near_ it!", Axel headed towards the forest. He could feel the flames, though they were no longer visible, but he felt them smoldering a fair distance away by now. That was not what he traipsed forward for though. Bending, he examined the blackened husk of a corpse that now lay still on the ground. Several other similar bodies lay nearby, but this one lay directly in front of and closest to the center of the fire damage. In the new morning, it did not seem as frightening. Granted, the fact that the silkworm was now dead and no longer moving helped too. He gingerly felt and lifted its protruding mouth, examined the silk-producing appendages.

"Axel, what are you doing?"

Nothing salvageable, unfortunately. "Do you know how much we could get for silk of this quantity? Find a city and we'd be salivated over. Merchants would fall at our feet for such a bargain." Axel looked mournfully at the blackened trees. Toasting the entire forest had seemed a good idea, but now that the practical side of his brain was in the forefront…

Demyx shrugged. "What use would we have for so much gold?"

Axel cast an incredulous look at him. "Have you lost your sense? Any village would gladly allow us shelter with the right amount of wealth at our disposal."

"But the…no. You said, and I believe I quote correctly, that this was 'castle chasing', which I assume meant questing for this magic drainage situation."

Axel waved a hand. "Who needs magic when we'd be as wealthy as kings?" He caught the displeased frown on Demyx's face and chose to slide smoothly by the confrontation. "It doesn't matter; pure speculation. There's no silk left for us, I'm afraid. Now where's this pool of water?"

Demyx looked as if he wanted to press the issue, but then his shoulders relaxed and he indicated the general direction with a nod. "It's not too far a distance."

While Axel drank on good faith, trusting Demyx's assurance that the water was not contaminated, and used Demyx's recently filled waterskin to clean his hands and then the rest of himself, out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Demyx fit mizrabs onto his fingers and examine his sitar. A few hollow notes sounded in the air. Taking one last drink of the clean water, he approached, hair pressed wetly against his head. "How is i—she?" Knowing Demyx's regard for his sitar, Axel deemed it wise to change his pronouns.

"I don't think…" Demyx carefully traced the broken and fragmented wood of the hollow chamber. "I don't think this is repairable." His face was carefully set into a neutral expression as he spoke. He smiled a little forcibly. "Still playable."

"I'm sorry," Axel was sincere when he said it.

Demyx shrugged. "Yes, well, you didn't exactly force me to break it. I don't blame you."

He carefully tucked the sitar back into its case, and with the whole ensemble strapped securely across his back, stood. "Shall we take our leave then?" He cast a wary glance backwards at the trees behind.

"Let's."

They passed by the pooling water, neither giving a thought as to what brought it or what it portended. They passed over flat lands and dry grass. Axel began to wonder why he'd been so eager to leave the forest. This was much much worse. This was summer heat, not autumn dryness. Sweat traveled down his back in rivulets, yet there was little water to be found anywhere. Were it not for the continual small tufts of vegetation littering the ground, he would have laughed derisively at mapmakers and called this land a desert himself. He and Demyx spoke little, saving words and saliva for a more comfortable period of time yet to come. Demyx also seemed lost in thought most of the time, more distant than Axel had ever encountered him as. He didn't know whether this was a good sign or a bad one that such a preoccupying thought had cropped up in Demyx's mind. Then the stretch of plains ended and he switched to wondering why he'd thought _that_ such a bad experience. For here was another manifestation of the dreaded element come to torment him by placing itself so squarely in his path. Their path, but no doubt, Demyx would not mind this new trek, as he had not in the beginning of their journey through the forest.

"Why a swamp," Axel moaned as soon as the visage became apparent from a distance away.

"Why not a swamp?" Demyx asked absently. "It's as good as anything."

Axel was prepared to glare sharply in Demyx's general direction, but the musician's face merely confirmed that his words had bore not even a hint of malice, but were purely an automatic response. This frustrated him more than if Demyx had outright taunted him about his aversion to water. And yes, he admitted it freely. While water may help clean and stave away thirst _in small quantities_, in larger amounts, he swore, it gained an arrogance and conniving mind of its own. Of course, he assumed Demyx, upon hearing this, would come up with a similar argument for his beloved fire.

"Demyx?"

"Hm?" Demyx turned his face away from the offending hand that Axel waved directly in his face. "What is it?"

"We're entering a swamp and you've been…your mind's been in another realm this entire days' worth of walking here. What fascinating philosophy is your mind musing over in there?" He tapped Demyx's temple with his knuckles and the musician shied away.

"Axel, do you really care about this?"

"What, your attention being focused on the here and now?"

Demyx sighed. "Do you actually want to go find this mythical castle or am I just aiding you in securing a new position in life that you can leech off of for as long as is possible?"

Axel had not expected this topic of all things, and spoken with such bluntness as well. "Great Odin, Demyx, you're still thinking about that?"

"Answer the question?"

He didn't think about it. "Of course. Why would I bother about renewing the source of magic or whatever quest may lie in that direction if I didn't need to? I didn't see you suggest this quest when the magic supposedly began to wane, until I had to practically coerce and drag you out here with me."

"Don't you care that something's wrong in the land?"

Axel rolled his eyes. "Do you?"

"Yes."

"This land did nothing for me except perhaps spit me out from its earthy womb, to which I will return once it's fed up with me, I suppose. Come on, Demyx, you can't honestly tell me you've had a better experience than I have. We're freaks of nature. People've always looked at us askance, treated us well reluctantly. What are you on about, giving them better than they deserve with their own judgments and acts?"

"You don't care about anyone else. No one? What about Xion?"

"I don't see how rushing headlong into a glorious adventure to save the dying land is going to help Xion anymore than not doing so would."

"What about me?"

Axel started. He hesitated. "What about you?"

"…Never mind. Please forget I said that."

"Demyx. If you're implying that if I cared at all about your wellbeing, that I would go chasing after and slaying this source of darkness or whatever this infectious evil may be, if it even exists, then you're mistaken. Like I said regarding Xion, unless I can see how that would help at all except for getting me killed, which I suppose some people would regard as a benefit for the land, then I'm not setting myself that goal. Right now, I'm going along with that goal tentatively in mind, because there is no better opportunity rearing its golden head up for me to see. But nothing will bind me to that option indefinitely, understand?" He paused, and said less heatedly. "And yes, I do care. You're my best friend."

It was Demyx's turn to gape and attempt to look as if he were not doing so once he realized what he was doing. "You…" He fell into awkward silence and Axel quickly broke in before they would have to endure a more uncomfortable pause. "So. Swamp ahead, now that I've finally gotten your attention back again."

Unlike before, Demyx quickly agreed with Axel without speaking that they should skip over the potentially messy and embarrassing gush of sentiment that seemed poised to burst. He nodded. "If you're prepared to encounter this new terrifying prospect."

"As I said before, let's see how you fare in an inferno."

Demyx snorted. "Yes, like your body would not burn as quickly as mine would."

"What can I say? Fire holds an obvious preference for me. You, on the other hand, it most likely would consider a mortal enemy. No offense, tough to be you, and all that."

"I would think the likelihood of us running into a veritable furnace that we would have to traverse in order to progress is rather low. As compared to us running into landmarks consisting of some form of water."

"Keep telling yourself that, Demyx."


	3. Long Shadows

Axel now added swamps to his steadily growing list of dislikes that bordered on hatred. Forests were bad enough, especially when damp, dimly lit, and infested by bugs that were at least fifty times the size they ought to properly be. Plains were, if he was inclined to be incredibly honest and lenient, tedious mostly, the endless walking and flatness only worsened by the steadily beating sun. And yes, he liked fire, but not when it manifested in the form of a giant relentless ball of flame millions of leagues away that bore down on him with wet heat. Not dry heat. He harped on that point, but it was true. Swamps were disgusting. The forest had been damp. Swamps actually contained pools of water instead of hints of it in the air and squishing underfoot. Tack on the fact that it was also dimly lit, and you would think with the sun shining so brightly whilst out on the plains during daylight hours, it would be able to penetrate the leafy coverages that apparently blockaded almost all natural light. And it _stank_. Like a thousand corpses slowly sinking into a mess of flesh and rotting bodily fluids. Not that he actually knew what that would smell like, but he could make a fairly accurate guess and if it smelled like anything, it had to smell like this revolting scent that assaulted his nose right now.

Even Demyx hated it; it was obvious from the expression. Thank whatever gods out there, there was actually solid land making up an almost-completely connected bridge of soggy earth. Axel was not one to count his blessings though. Upon solid, or mostly ground, the smell still followed them everywhere and every audible step insinuated that the weight of their bodies would cause the fragilely stable land to give way. Then there were places where the land bridges abruptly ended and the beginning of the next piece could be seen a few yards or, once, league away. Then they _had_ to wade into the water and shudder at whatever slimy underwater plants clung to their legs. (At least, Axel sincerely hoped those were plants and not…he hurriedly withdrew from the road that thought was leading down on.)

And they couldn't stop. What little light there was began to fade and cast the entire place into real darkness, but there was no place to set up camp for the night and _sleep_. Running on little sleep as he was, Axel was not pleased. He had not slept that first night, stayed up the whole night by the stream outside the village _it seemed so long ago so far away_ planning, thinking. But no, that was a while ago, and had been countered the night afterwards, where the soundest sleep he had ever known had consumed him. He was still not sure if that was a good sign or not, Demyx having more or less convinced him that whatever that was, enchantment was involved as well as the silkworm-corpse-laden smoke. And he really did not want to think about breathing that stuff in happily at the moment. But after that, there had been several nights on the plains, where Axel had essentially taken the whole watch. Demyx had stayed up for his part; that was true. But whether the musician had noticed or not, Axel had barely slept a wink, staring silently up at the sky, sometimes faint glows of a small dot of star peeking through, more often than not, angry clouds slashing across the purple in obscuring furrows. He had wondered sleepily and dazedly if one of the distant lights was actually not a celestial body, far from it, but the castle drifting lazily into the distance, uncaring that it was damning all innate magic users to suddenly silent lives. Uncaring or unknowing. And he had wondered if the being inhabiting that castle, if it was still alive, and if it was looking out the window right then, staring at the same sky, perhaps at the same star if fate so determined. And he was wondering why he could not get to sleep, why he was even thinking of these things instead of getting much needed rest.

So, yes, he was not pleased with the swamps. Judging from the cycle of semi-light and complete darkness, during which they had to move much more slowly and carefully, a day had passed whilst they were in there, and Axel was really hoping that that particular day would be their one and only spent in what he considered to be speedily approaching a living hell. He could not see the stars from in there. Somehow, and he did not know why nor did he care to wonder about, that bothered him.

Demyx looked as tired as he felt and Axel felt sure that he himself looked worse. This was assuming that Demyx had actually slept when it was not his watch. (And why wouldn't he?) Though there was water all around, Axel did not dare lean over and peer into the eyes of his own reflection, not in these muddied waters that were not even the right color. If water had to be present, it could at least have the decency to remain clean and an inviting color. Not…this green muck that resembled the slime of some animal's posterior instead of what belonged in lakes, oceans, and people's drinking casks. Speaking of which, they were running short on water. Annoying how they were low in supply on the very element that surrounded them on all sides.

"We should move faster," Demyx said wearily. He rubbed at his face, remembering just a moment too late that his hands were not as clean as they should be, removing his fingers to leave a brown streak of mud across his cheek. The skin beneath his eyes were dark, the color of a maturing bruise. Just looking at him made Axel feel even more tired. A strong sense of urgency to sink face first into the spongy ground, heedless of stink and fear, gripped his head achingly and the only thing that stood between the desire and the act was his strong sense of stubbornness and indignation at the mere thought. His pride, in short, which he had plenty of. So, he supposed, it was his job to keep Demyx afloat, so to speak. He had enough of the deadly sin to share. "We can't move much faster with this ground sucking at our shoes. Unless you've suddenly grown gills or have found a potion or parchment that would allow us to breathe underwater… Not that even fish would want to live in this."

Purely by coincidence, or so he liked to think, and as if to accentuate this last thought, a glimmer showed in the water and Axel was fairly certain he caught a glimpse of scales and white blank eyes before he quickly averted his face. They kept walking.

Eventually Demyx's eyes began fluttering and he nearly stumbled into the water. Axel tugged him back and sighed. "Dem. You're not going to let your own element seduce you. Control over water, not the other way around." Demyx nodded slowly and Axel let go. Night was falling and still no sign of even a gleam of real daylight in the distance.

In the darkness, Demyx did trip. Axel lunged for him and they fell, Axel landing partially submerged in the shallows near the sloping edges of the land bridge. For a moment, he was very tempted to just lie back and fall asleep, water, stink, magic be damned. Annoyance won out. "Why aren't you lighter than you look?" Axel grumbled and attempted to push Demyx off of him.

The water was lapping softly at his hair, almost…stroking his face as if to wheedle him into just sinking back into it. And then his eyes shot wide open as he realized that the motion had suddenly become unnatural if it ever was normal in the first place. The water undulating gently against his skin was no longer just that, enhanced by his imagination. The wet grip tightened, became yanks instead of caresses and Axel screamed aloud as, with a particularly vicious wrench, his entire body slid backwards. Then he made no sound as screams underwater tended to become inaudible. But it had been enough.

Demyx had jerked as the shriek of terror rang directly against his ear, and it had snapped him out of the dazed state he had walked in. True, his eyelids still drooped and his head still pounded, but with the sudden rush, his limbs no longer felt as heavy as badly attached millstones. He scrambled up, which was an error on his part, as, with the sudden weight of his body removed, the next pull on Axel's body nearly hauled the man completely into the water. Demyx thrust his arms into the water, wincing at the feel of _dirty so dirty so tainted_ water against his skin, felt Axel's arms within his grip and pulled back just as hard. His senses were on high alert, at least for the moment, and he saw…he saw little bubbles floating to the surface and bursting just about where Axel's head would be directly under. And he saw green glowing glints emerge from the water, which definitely was not natural. Their eyes met, the cold unearthly green meeting his own aquamarine ones.

"Help me," he whispered. "Help me, help me, helpmehelpme." His grip on Axel's arms was faltering, the tug too strong, the water too slippery, his own muscles too weak to prevent Axel from sliding further into the water. He closed his eyes and pulled as hard as he could. "Helpmehelpmehelpme…" Slowly, he felt the pressure ease; inch by inch, he began gaining ground in this tug of war. Then, in a sudden burst of what was apparently a last ditch effort, the little progress he had made in getting Axel's frighteningly still body out of the water was erased utterly and then some. Axel shot backwards again into the water with such force that Demyx nearly fell headlong in as well, stubbornly refusing to let go, clenching his fingers into sodden cloth. "Oh no, you don't! Not after all this. Help me, help me, _helpmehelpme_."

For a long, poised moment, nothing moved. Demyx tugged as hard as he could, but Axel remained exactly where he was, the air rife with tension that Demyx could feel it standing his hair up on end, though by no means had he any connection with the air. Perhaps the vapor in the air, he conjectured with the little that remained of the calm side of his brain.

Axel slammed into him so hard it knocked him onto his back, gasping for breath like a stranded fish. Demyx felt water lap at the very ends of his hair, causing fine tremors to vibrate against his scalp, and he sat up in a panicked hurry. His eyes wandered frantically for something to focus on in the darkness and he saw it a split second before it vanished. The green glowing eyes were unmistakable in the water and now he could see the tip of a very…very long snout and black leathery skin. As they stared at each other, a cold chill ran through Demyx that this thing might very well be able to climb out of the water and onto the land. And eat them. That was the crucial part. Or at least rip them to pieces. Then the green glow cut out as lids abruptly cut off the glow and the water quivered as the snout and bony eye ridges vanished beneath the surface of the water. Then a splash and a brief glimpse of a long tail that whipped through the air and lashed into the water, splashing, and then everything was still again.

Demyx reflected that this was becoming more common an occurrence than he had previously hoped and slapped Axel again. It couldn't have been more than a minute or two that Axel had been underwater, even though it had felt like hours earlier, but Demyx was wise enough to be able to distinguish between real time and such illusive senses of time passing. He had heard stories, though never seen for himself, about drowning victims and he vaguely remembered that real danger lay in a person being in water for more than five minutes. Maybe.

"Wake up." Slapping did nothing other than leave a darker mark on the pale skin, and Demyx felt that Axel was too white, too cold, with a sinking feeling in the depths of his stomach. In desperation, he squeezed his eyes shut and began feeling with his mind, which was the best he could describe the sensation, a sort of web with the sensitive strands connected to the nuances of his mind that twinged with the presence of water.

There was water all around. Demyx resisted the urge to groan in frustration. Instead, carefully, he began focusing on the smaller details. He could sense the water in the ground, _a little higher_ water flowing freely throughout Axel's body, _too deep too much_ then he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt no water too high up the chest, in Axel's lungs, because that would have been bad. He wouldn't have known what to do in that case and didn't want to entertain the thought that Axel could have, would have _died_—

Water, however, was present a bit lower than that in his body and Demyx frowned, opened his eyes. Not that the stomach was particularly harmed by water, but he was fairly certain that this particular water that stunk of rotten flesh and, in the daylight, looked the color of day-old mold, this water was unhealthy to swallow. Reaching behind his back, Demyx undid the straps binding the sitar to his body. Removing his mizrabs from his pouch and fitting them onto his fingers, Demyx took a deep breath and began to play very carefully. The scene must have looked bewildering to any casual bystander. Demyx did not actually need his sitar in order to manipulate, or as he preferred to think of it as, communicate with water. But whether through magic or temperament, or perhaps both, the magic adapting once he began developing a fondness for the instrument, the act of producing music helped him concentrate. His body went away and his mind was free to wander amidst the element he loved.

He felt the water trembling minutely at the first stroke of sound and noted with pleased surprise that the element was more responsive here than it had been during those last days back at the village. The next note eased the tune a tad higher, finer, and he felt the water shift in response. This was ridiculous; he had no experience with such operations and Odin knows what damage he was doing to Axel's internal organs by performing this risky maneuver, but he pressed onwards. The water began collecting, twisting to accommodate a more narrow passage, in what he could only assume but was invisible to his mind, moving from Axel's stomach along the path that would move it to the mouth. He didn't need to go that far.

About, what he guessed was, halfway up, coughing broke through his music and his fingers wavered on the strings. Axel coughed again, and Demyx nearly dropped his sitar in his haste to get up and move. He managed to lay the instrument gently on the ground before crawling forwards on his hands and lifting Axel's head up. The redhead began retching and Demyx turned Axel's head the other way before the other man could get any confused or malicious idea to aim his way. Axel managed to get his hands on the ground as support before he vomited, gagging on the vile taste. It was mostly water, Demyx supposed, but still had to taste horrid. After the painful heaves stopped and his body was reduced to heavy pants and stomach rolling, Axel choked out, voice hoarse, "Gods, that tasted revolting."

"No surprise there." Demyx bent to get a better look at his face. "You also look terrible."

"Silkworm goo, lack of sleep, and drowning will do that to a man," Axel remarked bitterly before clutching his stomach and dry-heaving again. "By all that is merciful, what was that?" he finally asked after his throat was in working order again.

Demyx eyed the, for now, still waters uneasily. "I…I'm not certain."

"We ran into another mutated magical disgusting creature again, didn't we?" Axel didn't wait for an answer, didn't want an answer most likely, but shuddered and felt at his face and shoulders. "Never let me get dragged again. Please. That was horrible." He squeezed his upper arms and winced. "You pulled pretty hard."

"Excuse me; maybe next time I'll just let the swamp monster take you then," Demyx shot back irritably. He immediately regretted it when Axel seemed to turn even paler in the darkness. "I'm sorry, Ax. I was—"

"Joking, being sarcastic, whatever. I'm influencing you too much, for the worse as the good citizens of back-there village would no doubt spout at their next town meeting."

And it was then that Demyx knew Axel was going to be all right. If he felt good enough to snark in a fashion that resembled his normal manner more or less, then no fatal side effects were going to engulf him in the next couple of days. Demyx had no proof for this sudden conviction he felt, but nevertheless, he felt reassured.

"Why always my hair…?" Axel was moaning, attempting to wring the water out of his now flattened, dripping hanks. Demyx rolled his eyes and moved out of the way of the droplets of water that Axel was flinging in every direction, picking up his sitar and reattaching it to his back. "Well, at least we know enough not to go near the water. At least in the night."

"It could be this area, you know," Axel commented. Demyx shrugged. True enough, but that didn't make him feel any better. Doubtless, there would be further places where the land bridges gave out and they would have to venture into the water again. Axel finished, or at least deemed that he had finished, squeezing every possible drop of water he could get out of his hair, and sighed with a tone of utter lamentation and self-pity. Demyx would have felt sorry for him, but for the simple fact that this was _Axel_, and he knew the man too well.

"Shall we get going then? I assume you don't want to sleep around in this place either after this occurrence. Tell me what happened."

And so they began walking again as Demyx did his best to piece together a recounting for Axel. It was particularly hard to describe a creature that he had neither caught a very good glimpse of nor ever heard of in classes, books, or stories. When Axel grew impatient with his attempts, Demyx, however, could counter with the observation that he was too busy saving Axel's life than to distinctly mark every aspect of the creature for animal cataloguers' collective delight. That shut Axel's mouth.

Earlier, they had passed several strange shapes in the daylight that both Demyx and Axel had separately concluded to be logs. But now that he knew what he was looking for, Demyx could see in the steadily appearing sunlight that the dark shapes half-hidden by sagging blades of grass were no logs. Now that he looked, really looked, he could imagine that that long branch extending off the end was a tail, half-obscured by it curling around itself. And those bumps on the log were really the closed eyes that, in the darkness, would again shine ghostly green. And he could probably have compared the bark to the leathery skin and gone further, but then he decided he didn't really want to see anymore. The thought that his stare could actually cause the creatures to wake struck him as ridiculous but it still made him feel better to avoid maintaining any sort of connection with those things.

Axel, however, had no such qualms unfortunately. Demyx's brief sojourn into the land of obliviousness to whatever it was that the redhead had been saying had attracted his attention. "What fascinates you, Dem?" He stared, and his silence as he concentrated gave Demyx the brief hope that perhaps he was confused, would turn around in a second and ask mockingly why Demyx had been in his fantasyland.

"Is that…" Demyx made ready to yank Axel back if necessary. He was currently staring at the lumpy blackness that lay across the water on the small spit of isolated land. Then Axel's expression darkened. "Shall we see how well you burn…" he murmured fiercely, taking a step forward. Demyx was just reaching for his arm when Axel stopped stock still of his own free will. It took Demyx a few seconds to understand what prevented Axel from running heedlessly towards the slumbering monster with flint and rage alone as his weaponry. The long stretch of muddy (and more) water that lay on all sides of the island that had nearly claimed Axel as its victim only a few hours ago now held him back for his own salvation. Demyx profusely thanked the waters for both their help last night and now in prohibiting Axel from rushing headlong into his, and most likely Demyx's as well eventually, so _their_ dooms.

Axel's glare was still murderous even as Demyx's tug propelled him into walking again. "If that damnable water weren't there…"

"That damnable water very obligingly saved your life earlier," Demyx told him, holding no hope whatsoever that Axel would accept this explanation and get over his vendetta against the very liquid he drank on a daily basis. Axel shrugged. "It could be even more obliging and help me clean up now."

Well, he supposed, that was better than nothing. He, however, was unwilling to use the precious bit of clean water they had left in their waterskins for the act of cleaning when there was no guarantee of finding another source of drinkable water for another while. Axel cajoled, whined, but eventually conceded what he himself had been thinking but unwilling to admit. Demyx imagined that having all that dried mud plastered pretty much everywhere could not be comfortable. That, and Axel loved being difficult simply because he could.

So they kept walking and gradually the literal light in the distance began appearing and then tantalizingly growing closer bit by bit. Then night fell and they reassured one another that the next day would do it, by the next sunset, they would be able to actually see the ripening colors for themselves, leaving the swamp behind _and good riddance_.

Sleep, he needed sleep, they needed sleep, but neither of them dared now. If ever they had been tempted by the hope that there was nothing dangerous around, that they could sleep safely, it was just nerves and over-cautiousness, they now knew better. Axel propped his head up, then thought better of it, and instead sat up all the way. Farther to fall in case he did drift away. "Demyx?" 

"Mm?"

Axel punched Demyx lightly in the shoulder. "Don't go falling asleep on me now."

"I'm not," Demyx mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands.

"What have you heard about this whole…" Axel waved his hand vaguely, not that Demyx could easily pick out the movement in the darkness anyways. "You know. Magic. Us."

"You mean what have I heard or what I believe?"

"Both."

Demyx was silent for a long moment and Axel poked him in the shoulder hard in a sudden pit of cold fear. "Oi."

"I'm awake. I'm thinking." Demyx thought for a while longer. "There's the light and darkness origin debate as you no doubt have heard of. Adventurers that drift through the taverns I frequent don't usually have much to say on the topic, too philosophical and of the intellect for their liking, I suppose. I've heard rumors about this supposed castle though, if you're interested in that."

"Please. If you would."

"All right. As the story relates to the magic issue, people were saying that the son of the queen was born unnatural, inhuman, and in an attempt to protect her beloved people, the queen was forced to painfully relegate her son to imprisonment. In this prison of suspended luxury—"

"Did you come up with that artistic phrase yourself?"

"—the young prince, shush, Axel, for if you think about it, that is indeed what he is. Royal blooded. What was I saying…? Ah. In his captivity, the boy, if he can be called a boy, developed strange powers because of his innate darkness. His powers and his darkness grew stronger within his heart, and very quickly, the darkness began spreading from within him to an alarming range of people. Throughout the land, people began gaining powers that had long been forgotten since people had left behind their primitive worships of the spirits that dwell in the void. Now that is how the official story goes. But then there are those who tell a different tale."

"Get on with it."

"I am, if you will give me a chance to tell this properly."

"Gods, how he harps," Axel complained to no one.

"There are those who say the queen was not…is not so pure hearted nor as altruistic as the story makes her seem. Travelers who have been in the royal city itself say that she herself is a sorceress of great means and that her son follows in her footsteps. Not desiring a rival that could usurp the kingdom and her power over the people, she locked him away at an early age and prevented him from learning as much as she could." Demyx hesitated. "And then some facets of the story grow even darker. Some say the queen was not meant to be queen at all. The king and his wife of the now grew up together but he loved another. But in her desire for power, the queen seduced him with all her powers and spiritual pacts, enchanting him. Even now, some who have actually seen the king say he is completely spellbound by her. Whether they mean that figuratively or literally is up to listener's judgment. The kingdom is held captive by her bidding; anyone whose subversive words are carried to her ears are banished from the kingdom, a bounty placed on their hands to be collected by any citizen who kills them on sight."

He bowed his head. Axel, who had heard some of these stories for himself before, prodded him. "That's not all, is it?"

"They say the queen is not only a sorceress, but a witch who has sold her soul to the devil, that she has made pacts with nameless demons from several realms beyond. They say all kinds of things, Axel."

"And what do you think?"

"I…I would rather not think anything until I have seen something of this for myself. And I think it's safer to do so."

Axel shrugged. They were silent for a while longer before Axel mused slowly, "But you have to wonder…the closer we get to the center of the kingdom, are our experiences going to become stranger? The village was on the outermost boundary and we never heard hide or hair of these kinds of creatures until…"

"Don't."

Axel knew some of the stories being told about the queen being able to hear every word conveyed to her on an ill wind, one that swept through all the lands she controlled and even some that she held no absolute power over yet, but had the shadow of her hand beginning to stretch out over it. She had ravens at her bidding who hid in the shadows of trees and flew back to whisper in her ear all that they heard. It was how she rooted out dissenting voices, how she managed to stomp out these protests before they could rouse the people. And perhaps the people were all under an enchantment because it seemed like everybody had heard these tales yet nothing was happening, nothing was being done about this. Not for the first time, a strange feeling crept over Axel that this was wrong, something _should_ be done, _he_ needed to do something. He brushed it away again, less immediately though if anything is to be said about his developing character. When he felt the people of the land deserved it, then he would maybe consider sticking his neck out for them. If that would do any good at all anyways.

The hours seemed even longer tonight as they waited for the first peeks of light to creep through and scare away all nocturnal things that began their hunt for prey at night. It was the knowledge, more like the hope to be fair, that this was the last night. Many times, noises came to their ears, faint shufflings, splashes in the water. Axel would have preferred something more direct, a roar, a screech, than these unnerving hints at things.

Eventually morning did come and they did stumble out much more quickly than they had expected to earlier. Axel did not look back, but strode into the sunshine with a terribly concealed sigh of relief. "Finally." He fell to his knees and collapsed face first to the ground in a dramatic show of exhaustion.

"Axel."

"Shhh. Sleeping." Axel's words were muffled and his careless gesture that was intended to illustrate his words failed to make anything clearer. Demyx sat. "Axel, you look horrible. If you thought the silkworm residue was bad…" He let his words trail off meaningfully and sure enough, Axel immediately sat up, clutching at his hair and face. "What? How bad?"

In the bright sunlight, the dried mud and heavens knows what was in that water streaked painfully obviously across every aspect of the redhead. No longer was his distinguishing hair color easily noticed; Demyx had to squint to make out the red and he was well acquainted with Axel's hair color as it should be. "Let's just say we need to find you a clear spring soon?"

"Why always me?" Axel moaned. He flopped backwards to stare up at the sky, lifting his arms in a melodramatic gesture of self-pity and despair. Demyx rolled his eyes.

Axel was continuing in his bewailing. "What have I done to receive such wrath of the gods? So I've corrupted and broken the hearts of a few youths and damsels in my life. But who hasn't? And they'll recover; they'll come out stronger because of me, I swear! Take Demyx, not me!" He drew out the last word in a long whine.

"Flattering. Truly flattering, Axel." Demyx was reaching for his sitar, wanting nothing more than to sleep, but also feeling a sense of obligation to at least do a brief cursory search for any other water sources in the area. Not only because they _both_ needed a bathe from their brief sojourn in the swamp, but because waterskins only held so much water in the first place. A few tentative notes had him wincing; the adrenaline fueling his last desperate handling of his sitar had caused him to not notice the broken sounding notes as much. It took much more effort to enter his trance-like state, but even when he did so, no water lay ahead. Demyx opened his eyes and shrugged. "Sorry, Axel. No cleaning up just yet."

Axel made no reply and Demyx twisted his body to find the other man's eyes closed and chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm despite the mess he was in. And looking at Axel's peacefully slumbering form only made Demyx all the sleepier. Surely a nap, or two perhaps, couldn't hurt? It was broad daylight, they were out in the middle of nowhere, and so far, the plains had been deserted. Despite objections that began expressing their misgivings within his head, the need to rest overrode them all. With warnings still ringing in his mind, he carefully slipped out of the straps of his pack, set it down next to his sitar, and was asleep as soon as his head met the ground.

Those of more genre savvy natures might have been warier to do such a foolish action. In such situations, with the presented factors and wording, most people wake up to find themselves tied to chairs or worse. If there is a situation in which the heroes become tempted to perform a certain action, most often sleep, and at the time everything around is suspiciously silent, evil in the world is just around the metaphorical corner, ready for the last eyes to close before it pounces. This was not one of those situations.

Axel awoke and found he was stiff and uncomfortable from having stayed still for so long in such a position with still-drying mud all over him. Nevertheless, he regretted nothing. His dreams had been plentiful, intriguing, and he felt better than he ever had for a few days now. Whatever complaints he would have had about the world at large were tempered and mollified again. He stretched on the ground, looking very much like a contented cat. All he needed to do was purr and clean up.

Except it was now getting cold. Axel despised the cold, even more so than he did the relentless sun. He sat up and shuddered as a particularly biting wind breezed past him right then. "Demyx."

The man was asleep, or seemed to be. Axel uncomfortably bent his limbs and crawled over to poke him in the shoulder. "Oi. Demyx."

The bard rolled over and buried his face in, Axel amusedly realized, what he apparently thought was a pillow but was actually dirt. It would make nowhere as much a mess as the one currently all over him, but it certainly made him feel at least a tiny bit better. Demyx remained asleep and Axel chuckled. "Dem. Wake up."

The situation grew less amusing when several pokes later, Demyx still remained asleep. Axel glared in frustration at the other, oblivious to all cares in the world and the fact that he was _bloody freezing_. Bending close, Axel brushed a few lonely strands away from Demyx's ear and hissed, "If you don't wake up right now, I will have to make a bonfire to stave off this cold. And guess what will be my primary fuel for this source of heat? Your beloved sitar, that's what."

Axel felt slightly ruffled when Demyx only stirred briefly before resettling in a different position. He considered for a long moment actually carrying out his threat, staring meditatively at the instrument. That train of thought ended with a sigh as he reflected that Demyx would most likely strangle him as soon as he woke and then he would have the problem of dealing with the coldness of death, which was a lot more difficult to get rid of.

He shoved Demyx. Hard. Considerably less damage in that option. Demyx woke after that and sat up, arms and legs flailing. "What?"

"Finally. You're awake. I've been freezing my skin off while you've been napping away. Can we go now?"

Demyx looked still bleary. "Huh? Yes?"

Axel rolled his eyes. "Heavens help me, Dem, you will be the death of me someday." Reaching out roughly, he stood and, with the same movement, yanked Demyx to his feet. "Forward march, soldier."

"I'm a bard; I'm no soldier."

Yes, Demyx's skills at creating witty retorts was definitely hindered by either lack of sleep or the state of having just being pushed awake. Axel did not particularly care at the moment. "I refuse to stay here and get battered into pieces by this cold wind. And for some reason, related possibly to a sudden lack of sanity on my part, I don't want you to either. So we start walking." He picked up his own pack and Demyx's, and shoved the latter into the blond's arms. The man stumbled backwards unsteadily and Axel's eyes narrowed. "For land's sake, Demyx, don't tell me you've been enchanted to be drowsy."

"I've not slept for days on end," Demyx whined.

"Neither have I. Now quit your whinging."

They were walking a lonely stretch of land now. No forest or any other unique aspects of geography presented itself in the stark landscape for leagues on end. Nevertheless, this time, Axel swallowed all his complaints and squashed the protesting thoughts in his head about the tedium of such walking and the heated sun once it rose. The horror of the swamp still lingered in his mind all too clearly and he had no desire to wish any such occurrence on himself again. He shuddered. The feeling of clammy fingers that felt _not quite right_ inhuman digging against the bones of his chin, dragging his entire head in and downwards. His lungs screaming for air and then his inevitable gulp of water even as it burned his throat but no precious air that his body craved desperately. The sharp pain of sinking into blackness before Demyx dragged him back. He shook the memory off.

Demyx was watching him, without a word. When Axel turned to return his gaze for blatant gaze, the bard looked away and gazed into the distance innocently. "Water's not far away."

"Hurrah," Axel said absently. Granted, when they finally got to it, a small spring, Axel was entirely grateful for the constricting suit of dried mud being washed away and for the chance to drink his fill for once instead of having to beg Demyx for regular delegations of small sips.

"Um, Axel?"

"Mm?" He looked up, hair and head still dripping.

Demyx gestured silently and Axel followed his pointing. "…oh. Huh. That actually looks familiar." And welcome. For despite the fact that the residents of the outline of the village sitting in the near distance might sooner stab them with pitchforks than house them, despite the fact that Demyx might object to their…borrowing much needed food and supplies in the dead of night, Axel had no such reservations. And any chance he could get at a more solid meal than the scant nibbles they'd been consuming for a few days now (he really needed to reconsider his estimates of how much food they would need per day), he was not letting pass by unseized. _Carpe diem _and all that Latin gibberish.

"Do you think we might find anyone?"

It took Axel several moments of slow blinking to realize that Demyx was on an entirely different tack than he was. "Oh. I don't know. Maybe. Although if this village is anything like the one we left and if any of our fellow gifted who lived here had any semblances of rationality, they would have cleared out by now."

"Not all villages are the same, Axel."

Axel grinned mirthlessly at him. "You're a trusting soul, aren't you?"

"People aren't all bad."

"_People_,' Demyx looked up sharply at the intonation that had crept into Axel's voice, "People are _boring_. They are boringly stupid and unchanging. They—we are mean-spirited and selfish, Dem." Again with that savage smile, and Demyx backed up a step before he knew what he was doing. Axel did not approach, stayed where he was, and kept those bright eyes fixed on the unnerved musician. "I except you, Dem, I except you. Although…really, why did you come on this journey, hm? I don't think it's your sense of pity for the state of the world as it is right now, is it? What tempted you, besides the fact that it was an escape from _them_? The prospect of fame and glory, outlandish material for your latest song perhaps? It's definitely not from a desire motivated by pity for these poor misguided folk though, right?"

"What's your point?"

Axel leaned his head back, and with those fever-bright eyes hidden, Demyx allowed himself to relax just the tiniest bit. "My point…my point is that the people of this town will have very few reservations about chasing us out as soon as they realize what we are. They're all the same." He sneered, but at least whatever ugly resentment had been driving his earlier speech had vanished from his eyes when he glanced at Demyx again. "So be set to hightail it out of here at the first sign of a readied pitchfork."

Demyx hesitated. "All the things you said…"

Axel interrupted. "Are true. But I wouldn't expect you to understand, you optimistic romantic, you." He tossed a teasing smirk at the other man, but there was something indubitably moody in his expression. Demyx knew better than to push the point. He did though. "I don't think even you yourself believe that, Axel." He hurriedly continued even as Axel began a retort. "There are tales of heroism and altruism throughout the ages, and don't even say that bardic tales are fictional and unreliable. The mother that runs into the flame-ridden building to save her baby. You can't deny that has no element of selflessness within it."

"Yes, I can," Axel shot back. "What? You think the mother doesn't want to live as well? She's getting old; she wants some piece of her in the world, doesn't she? If that little brat of a baby dies, well, she's got to start all over with her legacy then. Not that she would find the initial part of that too objectionable, I should say." He leered.

"…you're wrong," Demyx said quietly. "Maybe part of what you said does play into it. But I don't think you really believe what you're saying." He paused. "Every time you pulled me up when we were running from those…things in the forest. When you kept my awake in the swamps. Can you honestly say the only reason you did those things was so you yourself had a better chance of survival."

"Yes."

Demyx looked at him. "I think you're lying. And maybe you don't realize it, but—"

"Gods, spare me the didactics. Can we just go? Forget I said anything." Axel shrugged his backpack into place and began trekking, not looking back. A moment passed before he heard Demyx's footsteps follow him through the shuffling of grass blades. True to his predictions, the farmers in their fields, upon noticing the two strangers' approach, welcomed them with suspicious looks as they leaned upon their tools and watched, if but for only a moment. "Told you," Axel muttered to the empty air before him. He had no idea if the breeze carried the words to Demyx or not, and he didn't care too much anymore. When an equally suspicious pair of eyes greeted him upon his knocking at the gate, Axel plastered on the fakest smile he was able to without severely disturbing the watchman. Part of him was disappointed when the watchman merely examined him and cast a brief glance over Demyx before the gate creaked slowly open. Apparently, any "travelers on the way to the city" were gained admittance without question these days.

The food was surprisingly good at the small tavern. Axel had expected the most dated bread they had along with watered down beer _if_ the innkeeper was feeling generous, but what they received amounted to a downright feast compared to what they had been consuming thus far. And he hadn't even needed to steal it. This worried him.

"Hey Demyx."

"You're going to ask me if I sense there's something wrong with this place, aren't you?" Demyx laughed at Axel's astounded look. "Axel, you're not very subtle, at least not when you keep glancing at me throughout meals." His expression fell. "But it's not like the water can communicate with me anymore. Not really."

"Liar." At Demyx's questioning and slightly injured look, Axel sighed. "Idiot. Haven't you noticed something? Didn't you say the water in the swamp 'helped you' pull me back up? And don't think I've been walking idle for the past few days. Look." He pulled out his flint and Demyx looked at it uneasily, looking as if he expected it to rise up and bite him any moment. Axel snorted. "Relax. I know what I'm doing." A quiet shriek arose alongside a shower of sparks as Axel struck it quickly across his scrap of steel. Demyx stared. For…it was hard to describe in words, so swift yet fluid the motions were. In the same moment as the striking, Axel let the flint fall into the cup of his hand and changed direction midway towards the spray of sparks that had begun to curve downwards in assent to the pull of the earth. The moment, or it _seemed_ instantaneously at least, his skin touched a dancing pinpoint of light, it flared into flame. Demyx stared, and stared at the little ball of fire that now swayed in Axel's palm. "That…that was fast."

Axel looked up, his dreamy stare into the heart of the flame broken. "What? Oh. You think that's it?" He grinned mischievously…and tossed the fireball into the air. In a slow twisting arc, a thin trail of flames followed the main source, before dropping too fast towards the very wooden, very flammable floor.

"AXEL!"

A splash of water in the distance, perhaps the faintest note of music half emerged from another plane of existence…

The briefest brush of flame against the floor, caressing it lightly before engulfment… At a gesture, it winked out before its roaring hunger could consume anything.

"Gods above, Axel!" Demyx glared, perspiration dotting his whitened face. He was shaking obviously. "Were you _trying_ to burn the house down?"

Axel stared at him. "You didn't notice?" He shook his head in mock pity. "You poor unenlightened creature. Didn't you see how fast I put it out?" For a moment, his face filled with pure childish glee, and Demyx realized that, of course, Axel had had no concerns for any consequences that might have arose _if_ he had not managed to perform his conjuring trick in time. Like a toddler that demands only and always for what it wants, regardless of the well being of others. He sighed. "Yes, Axel. Good job; you put it out. Are the flames listening to you again then?" Axel's broad grin stretched even further, if that were even possible. "Oh, but it seems I'm not the only one." He nodded pointedly at Demyx's outstretched and still trembling hand.

Demyx glanced downward, saw the sensuous curve of water that shivered in time with his own movements for a moment. Then, as if it could not survive under the full pressure of his conscious awareness of its existence, it burst apart in a flurry of water, soaking hand, sleeve, and floor. Demyx gaped at the spreading puddle. "I…but I…I just…"

Axel snorted. "Well, it sure as Hades wasn't me. You can keep your water, thank you very much." He peeked at the brunet's still dumbstruck expression and sighed, allowing himself to fall backwards onto the bed with a bounce. "Come on; you never considered this possibility? Even after you told me the water helped you save me? Back in the…swamp, I mean. I don't know what it was like, but don't you think that was still beyond what you could have done back h—at the village?"

Demyx slowly raised his hand, sending slow droplets of water cascading. "Then…the stories are true." A growing excitement lit in his eyes. "Whatever's inside that castle has to be the source of our gifts! Or at least, has become the source. And the closer we get to it, the stronger our elemental bonds become…then those other tales must contain truth within them as well!" He turned in a whirl to face Axel. "But then what do we do? We've never planned that far ahead, at least, I haven't, have you? What do we do once we reach the very doorstep of this palace?" He hesitated. "They say the prince…a being of pure darkness. Have you ever given thought to this rumor?"

Axel shifted. "What? That he's a monster and has all this power because of the darkness within him." He laughed mockingly. "Well, I know for sure that would explain why I have this thing with fire. Not too sure what this says about you, though. You seem a tad too innocent to be gifted by the evil powers that be."

Once again, Demyx had reverted to staring at the clinging beads of moisture on his fingers. He seemed calmer now, face thoughtful. "You know…I can't imagine this being a wicked, dark thing. Aren't the elements themselves a natural part of this world? If we commanded the elements, I could perhaps understand the darkness within our gift as being that of tyranny and domination. But…we don't. We aren't. It's not we who command the elements, but we who beg favors of them." He lifted his hands and in the golden light, the water shone. "This doesn't _feel_ dark." He turned. Axel breathed softly, eyes having fallen shut some time during his contemplation. Demyx looked over his shoulder. The damp stain and dark scorch marks on the floorboards now suddenly seemed a lot less glamorous and fantastic. Settling himself with his back against the frame of the bed, he reached for his sitar, mind sliding away into distant realms even as he did so.

In the midst of his trance, he must have drifted from the land of music into the one of dreams. For it seemed only a short amount of time before he felt the hand on his shoulder roughly shaking him into consciousness. Demyx awoke, mind spinning still amidst the roaring wind and drifting snowflakes that dazzled his inner eye. Axel yanked at his shoulder again impatiently. "Demyx. Stop dreaming. We have to go."

"What?" That woke him, and he sat upright. A moment later, he fumbled with the unexpectedly full pack that Axel thrust into his arms. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you later. Come _on_!"

"Where—" At Axel's thoroughly exasperated glare, Demyx decided his question would serve him better later, as Axel said, yes, of course. Hitching his backpack onto his back, he nearly gasped at the weight of it. Oh, he knew what answer he would receive if he asked about _that_, if any. They were supplies, where did they come from? Don't ask, don't tell. And was…Axel climbing out the window?

The door slammed open. Demyx immediately forgot any reservations he had about such an unconventional way of exiting the inn and leapt for the window frame. He barely registered the yell from behind, just dug his fingers into the wood and heaved himself over. From below, Axel's voice rose in a sharp snarl. "Oh, you bastards—"

Demyx landed on all four limbs and chose not to move when he caught the gleams of moonlight on the many spear points that had not been there before but now seemed to be all pointed his direction. He moved his eyes, not his head, and found that was not strictly true; an equal amount of sharp pointy weapons, if not more, had been spared for Axel's discomfort.

"…You are clever," came the dry voice. Axel stiffened and his lips drew back from his teeth a little as one of the faceless hooded figures stepped forward out of the shadows. "We thought we'd betrayed none of our intentions to you in our interactions and yet…" He shook his head in wonder. "We are terribly fortunate you did not manage to escape. Tell me. What forewarning did you have? Did you meet the lightning—no. You could not have. We would have seen omens of her lingering or arrival."

"Figure it out, oh wise one," Axel spat. The "wise one" did not pursue the point, but merely nodded at the group and stepped back, melting into the crowd once again. Axel shifted. Instantly, he was on his stomach, arms pinned to the ground. "Watch his hands!" someone warned unnecessarily.

"You'd better," Axel muttered darkly. White teeth flashed in the darkness when he saw some of the villagers flinch and then he gasped as the knee in the small of his back ground him even harder into the dirt. "I get it; I get it!" The pressure did not ease. In that moment, Axel felt it. A slow smile curled the corners of his lips. Had they really been so ill informed? Perhaps, it was sheer carelessness, but he did not think so. Whatever the reason, he cared not for it. The smirk turned into a frown when he turned his head as much as he was able and realized Demyx had not yet been forced to the ground, at Axel's level, and thus Axel was unable to relay his hurried plan. Ah well. He was a bard, and to top it off, his element was water. He could adapt.

What really sealed his resolution was the realization that someone was fumbling at his pouches, most likely the person on his back and to check for concealed weapons. They may or may not regard his fire-starting implements as dangerous—they would, if they were smart—but he was risking nothing. And plus, _nobody_ touched his flint.

The hapless torchbearer stared in astonishment as the flame of his torch suddenly flared in the darkness. A second later, and he was screaming, not only staring, but screaming and flailing in response to the fire rushing up his sleeve. And he dropped his torch, and it rolled but the flames did not snuff themselves, instead growing brighter. Soon, the entire wood of the torch had vanished, consumed to fill a bottomless famish.

Axel lifted it from its cradle without moving from the ground. And Demyx could hear this time; he was close enough, unlike the panic with those monsters of the forest (had it really only been some days ago?). Axel crooned all the while he was pressed cheek against dry dirt, a muffled, wandering lullaby. In the midst of the random snatches of words, Demyx snapped his head up when Axel, never breaking from his tuneless melody, called, "Demyx, time to go. Oh, and you might want to duck."

Demyx ducked. The tips of his hair singed. In a deadly missile of heat, fire curved its way overhead, screaming, roaring. Rooftops burst into flames, and for one frozen moment, illuminated the silhouetted gallows standing tall in the distance. Two of them, recently built. Demyx stared, in sickened shock and then dismay, before the flames started in. Either Axel was letting them run free or he too had caught sight of the instruments that had been intended to be crucial to their deaths.

"Time to go," and Demyx let Axel lead him through the parted flames. Before Demyx could say anything, Axel paused just outside, face lit by the glow, the rest of him given over to the shade of night.

"You aren't…"

"Shut up, Dem." Eyes transfixed, firelight dancing in his pupils, Axel raised a palm, pleadingly, Demyx would have described the motion as, and held his breath. The angry blaze against the sky flickered, smoldered, and paused for a long moment, before leaping up again, brighter than before. A stricken look wiped Axel's determination off his face. "But I…"

"Come on!" Demyx had to forcefully turn the taller man away and pull him along the first few steps. "They're going to reach this place too before long."

"No—wait, I can stop it; I've practiced—"

"You've managed to control little spits of tame fire, Axel! This is too much; come on!"

The gate was easy enough to open from the inside. Thank the gods for that, since Demyx had no idea how he would have been able to maneuver a barely responsive Axel and figure out some complicated mechanism at the same time. For the longest time, they were walking across the plains again and Demyx had to keep making Axel walk forward, step by step, and not look back. "Damn it all to Hades, I thought I had something."

In all the rush and confusion and fire, Demyx had almost forgotten. "Axel, what happened? What were they doing?"

Axel glanced over his shoulder again before shaking his head absently. "I—I woke up and it was fairly dark. Darker than was convenient. I went downstairs to possibly see about dinner; admit it: their food was rather delicious. And fortune smiled down on us perhaps. Some man, who, I don't really know, nor do I care, some man was talking to the innkeeper and I waited. And, of course, a healthy bit of eavesdropping couldn't hurt." Demyx couldn't see his face, but the careless sarcasm assured him that Axel was not shell-shocked for life. Far from it, if he were able to recover so quickly.

"Lo, and behold, who should they be discussing, but a certain strange duo that had just arrived in town. And curiosity saved the cat, for I listened all the more intently, and learned that "they" were apparently coming to "collect" us very soon. The man speaking with our dear host, I suppose, was a farmer then for he mentioned that the sooner the better, his crops and family had suffered long enough. And I was correct on the uptake, as we found. Those gallows were meant for _us_, Demyx."

"I know that. But then…"

"Human sacrifices? Really?" Axel was moreso speaking rhetorically now. "Have they really stooped so low as to such primitive ways? I mean, sure, their plants aren't growing, et cetera. Worse luck, blame's on them for having relied so heavily on gifts and found themselves in a bind after chasing said gifts away."

"You think that's what happened?"

Axel hesitated. A hint of uncertainty laced his words. "It feels right to me for some reason. The sequence of events, I mean. You saw the nooses. Bets are those ropes would be around our necks now if we hadn't escaped."

"Fortunate timing on your awakening then."

Axel looked thoughtful.


	4. Cue the Lights

In the unchanging landscape, their eyes quickly leapt to the smallest change in color, despite the darkness. Demyx bent down, if only for a break in the monotony, and fingered the wildly dyed petals. "I've never heard of such flowers before."

"Would serve you right if it turned out to be magical and grew carnivorous with a taste for bardic flesh then." Demyx jerked his hand back. Axel sighed. "I'm jesting, Dem. I doubt very much that the odd wildflower sitting in the lonely plains is going to kill us now."

"You seem unusually certain."

"Law of adventuring. Heroes don't get killed off by pansy flowers, pardon the pun. That is, if you are willing to accept the view of us as _heroes_." Axel smirked.

Demyx's eyes were straining in the gloom. "Axel…I don't think this is just any odd wildflower."

"What do you—"

"Look." Demyx's finger shook only very slightly. Axel squinted. "…oh Hades. That mass of color's not…gods above. That many's…not supposed to be normal. I take it back; I take it all back. Although I will still be extremely pissed off if we die from a field of _flowers_."

"Why not? A single sprig of mistletoe was all that Loki needed to kill Baldur."

"…what?"

Demyx waved it off. "Mythology. You've obviously not heard about that tale." They paused now, both in speech and movement. For now what had been haphazard scattering of bright spots of color now became a veritable mass stretching beyond the limits of their vision in three directions. They gazed silently at the softly swaying threat. "Don't suppose there's any way around this," Axel offered.

"There eventually has to be. These can't stretch on forever." Demyx hesitated. "It's more a concern of how many days we would want to risk losing in trying to work around these."

"So we stalk blindly ahead then?" Axel roused himself and stepped forward, crushing the first few beneath his feet. He ground his heels in and shrugged. "Seems all right thus far."

"Thus far." Demyx nevertheless joined him and, with unspoken agreement, they slowly began stepping out a path of bent and broken stems. Nothing menacing seemed to occur and hopefully, that would hold until they were safely away from this disturbing myriad of colors. Then the wind began to quietly pick up speed.

Demyx turned around first, at the change in sound. Normally, it would not have been noticeable, but in the night, with no other sound around them but their scuffling footsteps, the faintest whistle by his ear caused him to look back. He howled almost instantly and fell to his knees, hands clutching blindly at his face.

"Demyx?" Axel turned simultaneously with Demyx's cry of "No, Axel, don't-!" He stared blankly into the lightening grey and a speck of what he might have dismissed as dust brushed across his cheek first before one found its way into his eye. Raging fire immediately consumed his nerves and he dropped bonelessly, curling forward, shielding his face instinctively and ineffectually. The pain burned its way through his eyes, slamming into the back of his skull and staying there, boring into his brain. He groped, crushing soft petals beneath and between his fingers viciously. Some corner of his pain-addled mind ordered him to face away from the wind and he obeyed, tears streaming down his face now. "Dem—Demyx." A quiet whimper was his response.

Carefully, he felt his way to the musician and cracked open his one eye that apparently had been lucky enough to have shut itself in pain before it too was assaulted. Yellow dusty specks clung to Demyx's face and broke apart into powder when he touched them. They smeared easily when he rubbed a finger along one high cheekbone. "Demyx, don't o—open your eyes, okay?"

He wiped as much as he could off his hands onto his shirt and gently dabbed with his fingers at Demyx's tearing eyes. The tears helped, the powder mixing with the liquid and clearing paths of unblemished skin through the yellow. He didn't know for how long they knelt like that, with his slow attempts at cleaning off Demyx's eyes, and face, but mostly the eyes. The sky was an obvious lighter shade of grey though, when he focused on it next. "Is it still as bad?" Demyx shook his head. "Ok, turn around. I think we'll be fine if we just don't face the wind. I'll get some of this out of _my_ eye now—No, don't open your eyes yet, idiot! Turn around first." He didn't want to know what the state of the back of his head and body was even like by now, having taken the brunt of the wind for all this time now.

"Can you see?" he asked once Demyx had turned. The musician's hands went to his face and he rubbed for several seconds before answering, "Yes. Th—thanks, Axel."

"Whatever. You know what? I'll clean as we walk. Come on. Unless you want to stay here any longer than necessary."

"…Axel, the wind's changing direction."

Axel had felt it, had not wanted to admit it, but now Demyx had gone and said it and his conscious mind was now aware of the fact. He cursed rather nastily under his breath, enough to make Demyx flinch. The remaining joys of a seedy childhood that had spilled over into adulthood, probably should have belonged in adulthood all along. "Got any spare cloth? Wrap it around your face. And don't breathe in any of this stuff for heaven's sake. I don't want to know what would happen, got it memorized?" Axel swore to himself that he would never complain about the monotony of walking for as long as he lived. Ever. Again. The monotony of walking? Nothing when compared to the monotony and dread when doing so essentially blindfolded and unable to see in a strange environment where everything appeared to be out to get them. His eye still stung like Hades, head pounding, He could feel the layering of sticky coating upon his back now, stiffening in his hair, pulling sharply at stray strands whenever he moved his head. It was harder to move now, not because of the aforementioned discomfort, but somewhere along the way, each step had become more bogged down. He could actually hear the squirting of fluid now whenever he stepped down hard on a strip of flowers.

The constant bending of springy stems ceased. Beneath his heels now, came flat, hard ground, maybe punctuated by sparse grass; he dared not look down yet. Ahead of him, Demyx paused and Axel crashed against him. "Wha—Why'd you stop?"

"We're out of the flowers now." Demyx's voice came muffled.

"Oh no, we're not. Well, yes, the flowers themselves, maybe, but the wind's still going. Come on."

They walked.

"Axel…"

They walked until even Axel admitted that he could walk no further. Then they collapsed forward and confirmed with their own two hands that, yes, indeed, the horrible deadly flowers were gone and only grass laden with damp dew remained. Axel unwound the spare shirt from around his head in time to see Demyx rubbing at his eyes furiously. "Let me see, you dope." He bent over and stared. "Holy…"

"Is it at all as bad as yours?"

Axel wiped distractedly at his eye. "You—wow. I don't even know how to fix this." Demyx's teal eyes looked back at him glassily, the whites of his eyes completely obliterated by delicate crimson lines. Jaggedly running every which way, the crosshatch was only marred by the tiniest flecks of yellow sticking against the watery surface. Axel winced in sympathetic pain. "Can you see at all?"

Demyx looked behind them. "A little." The field of flowers now lay a thin strip of color against the horizon. And there was a horizon, the sun creeping upwards in the sky, shining. It was only morning, Axel realized. It had seemed like days. "Demyx, don't give me any flack about us needing to save water or shit like that. You need to get that stuff out." He'd only gotten a small dose of the poison, the pollen, whatever it was, and in one eye at that, and it hurt like a _bitch_. It was only when Demyx nodded weary assent without the least attempt at protest that Axel had a faint inkling how much it must be paining him.

The water must have done some good for the specks of yellow had vanished when Axel lifted Demyx's chin to check again and the inflammation, perhaps Axel's imagination coupled with wishful thinking, but the bloodshot aspect seemed to also have died down just slightly. The sickening thought occurred to Axel that perhaps this was how these monstrous plants reproduced. Preying on unsuspecting eyed creatures, implanting, and germinating off the blood and flesh of their unwilling hosts until they streamed to the ground, watered by tears. That, or until they grew in the empty eye sockets of their dead hosts, perhaps. Axel snapped himself away from the image. The cool water relieved the burning pain somewhat. Emphasis on the "some" of that.

"Do you think you can keep going?"

"I have to." Demyx stumbled to his feet and took a few tottery steps. "I don't think time will heal this of its own accord. Staying here any longer won't help."

Even though, it probably had had no bearing on the matter, Axel couldn't help but watch Demyx hobble forward unsteadily and feel a twinge of irrational guilt. So much for no such thing as heroes being killed as a result of flowers with malicious intent. And it had been a perfectly natural thing to say, especially for him, sarcastic, biting, in jest. Nobody could have predicted the disastrous truth to his careless remark. Uneasily, the tiny worm of suspicion reared up in his mind. But he knew the stories about the queen sorceress's supposed power, her reach being long and her suppliants of information endless. Who was to say his ill begotten comment had not flown to her ears through means of sorcery; the wind, a stray bird, maybe she herself had heard it while scrying through the eyes of a nearby miniscule creature. Such displays of power were not unheard of in legends. And then these words of his would have sparked her sadistic amusement and, from afar, a wave of her hand, a whisper of arcane words terrible to behold, and the field of flowers would have stirred in the rising wind, their innards twisting and rotting away into something monstrous and bloodthirsty.

"Axel, stop it."

What?

"You had that look on your face again. You know, the one splashed across your face immediately after you realized you could not contain the fire you had started at the last village. Only…you were working yourself into deeper melancholy. So. Stop."

Axel glared at the musician, who had apparently managed to turn, study him, and then present him with his back again, all without alerting Axel's attention. That, in of itself grated on Axel's nerves for it suggested in a sly, vicious whisper directly to his mind, and his mind only, that he had not been watchful. Why, any hungry creature could have crept up on them from behind and Axel would have failed to notice it, if he could have let such an obvious attention-grabbing event such as Demyx turning slip by? But he would notice the hungry creature, Axel argued, because it would be fair obvious to his ears if the silence were broken by unexpected padding footsteps or rumbling growls. Demyx performing a perfectly natural, human action would have slipped by, because unconsciously, he would already have registered, evaluated, and dismissed the movement as unthreatening.

Unthreatening, perhaps, it sneered. But if Axel truly had registered the movement, as he claimed, would he not have raised his head and asked what the matter was? Shut up, Axel snapped.

"…I notice you're being very careful not to let me see your face," was all Axel said aloud. Demyx's shoulders tensed. Deliberately, he turned slightly, outlining his profile with sunlight. "Does this ease your fears?"

"Odin in Hades, Demyx!" Axel leapt forward before Demyx would wrench away and roughly yanked Demyx all the way around. He stared. The unnatural sharp curves that had been exposed in silhouette where Demyx's eyes should have been now stood in sharp, weeping relief. Demyx blinked swollen eyelids slowly, painfully. "I suppose maybe _now_ I should tell you that seeing is becoming a difficult task to accomplish?"

"You suppose rightly, you idiot," Axel all but snarled. He touched gingerly, soft touch belying his harsh tone. "Was it getting worse the whole time? And you never told me?"

Demyx might have glared; it was difficult to tell exactly. "Just as you told me about the diminishing sight in your one eye, maybe?"

Axel started, a hand flying up. Throbbing flesh pressed against his fingers and ached in a sharp spike within his skull. Immediately, he yanked both hands away, from his face and Demyx's. "I honestly didn't notice before. I was thinking. Gods above, Demyx, we can't go on like this."

"We have to," Demyx said simply. "There's nothing to help us out here. We can't just stop. Prolonging it would just make it worse, I strongly suspect."

Axel groaned in annoyance, annoyance that he would not have cared to admit to anyone, least of all himself, was born largely out of helplessness and despair. "There're no villages anywhere nearby? No wells, no pumps you can sense?"

"…I've been a bit distracted. But no, none within my range."

Demyx fainted a few leagues later. His eyes, from what Axel could tell, were completely swollen shut, and his breath choked back by liquid and ragged. Axel had a pounding headache. The sight in his one eye was almost completely gone; he had not noticed, so gradually the blackness had come, but now if he concentrated, he could tell that his perspective had changed. To be precise, changed because he was now lacking one side to it. At least, fate had it that Demyx weighed very little himself, thank the heavens for small favors. The small favor was set off by the fact that, while Demyx himself might weigh very little, the weight and awkward bulkiness of his sitar balanced out the good fortune.

And since Demyx would kill him if he _somehow_, a very big unlikelihood, managed to save him, but left the sitar behind, crazy bard that he was, Axel had to bring it along, strapped on Demyx's back, and Demyx pressing awkwardly against _Axel_'s back. With every step, the odd balance of their improvised piggy-backing threatened to throw the whole party backwards. Which…would probably have broken the sitar, since it would have been the first to land, and would have had Axel and Demyx's weight thrown hard against it. And added to the threat of possibly breaking the precious instrument, he didn't think he would be able to climb back to his feet. Certainly not without expending more effort and time than they could ill-afford right now. He walked; he did not know for how long. He walked for minutes maybe, weeks. Through the plains.

It was more than the plains, the grassy lands, though, wasn't it? The land progressively grew more arid, the green fading into brown. The grass dried up and blew away, forming sand dunes in the distance. The wind rose, blowing stinging grains of sand into his face, beating his skin swollen and raw. Of course, that was right. Because he had insisted they walk into the castle and the queen had opened the snow globe for them and they, fools that they were, had tumbled right in. And now her face, magnified through the hemisphere of glass that was their sky, smiled down at them, blue eyes coldly amused.

That was why the end never came. He walked through plain and desert and snowfield, but he was walking around in an unceasing circle, because he could never walk out of the world now, could he. Except maybe he could if someone smashed the globe hard enough and then the glass would shatter and spill them out…

_You poor dears_. He imagined a cool hand on his forehead, cooling the burning fever of the desert. He imagined for a moment a mother he had never known, soothing away the hurt with the mere presence of her gentle touch. He had never known this. He imagined this, and slept easily, confident in his fantasy. He could see her very prettily now. She would have bright red hair too, but her eyes would be a warm ocean blue, not his own acidic green. And her lullabies would ring beautifully and her skin soft and she would make a wicked chicken soup.

He looked beyond her and blinked. Who are _you_? You're not supposed to be here.

The intruder swung his legs, sitting above the fireplace. It struck Axel as a very childish gesture, and he found his gaze drawn to the long shadows cast, alternately lengthening and shrinking in size. I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. This is the only way I can help you. And you're in deep trouble. Although it's not your fault, really. Those flowers were placed years before you began walking this troubled journey. They've forced many travelers before you into the ground to be buried.

Axel could feel no fear in this place. He nodded calmly. Am I dead then?

No. Not if I can help it. You're my favorite, you see. If you died…I don't know what would happen. I won't let you die, not if I can prevent you from doing so. If I'm to be selfishly honest, I need you. He hopped down and curved a small hand under Axel's chin, bent close and peered into Axel's fascinated eyes. But now you have to go soon. Even if I save you time and time again, it won't matter at all if you don't stop it in time.

Stop what?

…I can't say. Not even in here. Just hurry, Axel.

And then only he and his mother were left. She smiled down at him. He squinted blearily up at her and something changed. The world shifted. "Mother…?"

"Again? Why does everyone insist upon calling me their mother?" Her voice wasn't right; it was too soft to have been able to sing those ringing clear notes that he had imagined lulled him to sleep each night. And her eyes were no longer blue, but woodland green. He opened his eyes. Her hair was brown, heavily braided, not red. "…I'm not dead, am I?"

"You're alive. You were very brave, walking all that way with your unconscious friend." She held up a hand before he could sit up. "He'll be fine. Both of you will be fine with some rest." She smiled at him. "What are your names?"

"Axel." He normally didn't give his right name, but then again he doubted very much this lady was going to do him any harm with that information. And he owed her. Little snatches of memory were returning to him now and the realization of how very, very lucky he was to be up and breathing right now was beginning to sink in. "I'm Axel. Where's Demyx?"

"Your bard friend?" She swept aside in a smooth glide of pink skirts and Axel lifted his head slightly to see Demyx's huddled form across from him. He appeared to be breathing; that was good. "Sleep now. You need natural healing as well, not just my gift."

Axel looked at her. "You know?"

She smiled sadly at him. "You're not the first refugees to have passed by my door. Those fleeing from the villages they once called home are the only ones I've seen thus far who've dared to go through the dangers as you two have. Where they run to, I've not asked, nor do I ask now. Some safe haven away from this fear, I hope. I stay," she continued before he could ask, "I stay because I've prayed for the day that things turn for the better. I think the day when it is all decided draws near."

Axel looked at her curiously. "How do you know?"

"Something let my heart know. Just as I felt your need when something led you close to my home and drew me out to find you."

Axel suddenly bolted upright. "But we have to go! There's not much time left—" The dream, if it was even a dream at all, a vision maybe was already fading away at the edges, some details beginning to fog over in his mind, but he remembered that urgency well enough. She caught him with surprisingly strong arms when he gasped from the sudden wave of nausea that barreled into him, and fell back. "I know, Axel. I've felt it too. But there's time enough. Trust me."

He opened his mouth again and this time, she held up a finger. "My name is Aerith. I hope that answers your question." The last view to accompany him into sleep this time was the sight of her tender smile and his imagination once again blurring her hair to auburn on its way to red. As it was, he therefore missed the droop of the corners of her smile once his eyes closed and remained closed. Aerith pressed her hand to her forehead and stood still in that position for a while. "You poor dears."


	5. Dimmed

Axel awoke to the sound of sitar notes. For a fleeting moment between wakefulness and sleep, he remembered white rooms and a figure sitting against the night sky, turning to meet his eyes. The dream flittered out of his grasp and the tenuous memory snapped in a thin broken thread. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. Daylight streamed through the windows.

"'morning, Axel," Demyx greeted him as cheerfully as Axel had ever seen him before as soon as the redhead stepped outside. The bard never ceased in his playing, fingers dancing from one string to the next. Axel stretched before sinking down to Demyx's level. "You're awfully giddy."

Demyx hummed. "It may sound morbid, but we're alive. That's enough to make any man happy right now." Indeed, the song he composed now was beginning to take its shape as a lively jig, wild and utterly free of care. Axel leaned against the doorframe and closed his eyes. He could stay like this forever…

"Many thanks, Demyx." Aerith's laughing voice heralded her arrival as she appeared from around the side of the house, arms laden with buckets of water. "The well was unusually generous today." Demyx immediately flushed a suffused pink. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to!" Aerith smiled and set down her burden. "My thanks are sincerely given, Demyx. I am very grateful for your easing of my chore. That is a marvelous gift you possess. It's wonderful that your beautiful music calls even the nourishing waters to listen."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am." Axel looked over in amusement to see that the healthy crimson pallor of Demyx's face had not dwindled in the slightest. Once he judged Aerith to be safely out of earshot, he elbowed Demyx in the side and returned the musician's startled glare with a lazy leer. "Aw, look who's besotted."

Demyx, unexpectedly, did not redden even further. If anything, his blush lightened as he bent his head over his sitar. "Don't be ridiculous, Axel. I didn't expect the compliment; that's all."

"You sure that's all it is?" Axel leaned in closer, conspiratorially. "You, who's probably heard all the sagas of love at first sight; romance in the midst of adventure and danger. You two would probably mix well, you know; you can't be too far off in age. Both of you, romantics, idealists, out to change the world one healing and one song at a time."

Demyx smiled distantly. "No, thanks. It's not for me."

"What isn't? The quiet life?" Axel looked at him incredulously. "Don't tell me you've become addicted to the adventuring lifestyle already. You masochist, you."

"Not like that! I'm not saying I don't want the quiet life…with maybe someone to spend it with. But I'm not out to change the world one song at a time." Demyx stayed quiet for a moment, absently affixing a string of notes together in a wandering tune. "I would be content just for even one person to hear my songs and derive some sort of enjoyment from them. Although…yes, I would like to be remembered. Maybe not in historical archives, but in some way. In a story perhaps." He grinned sheepishly. "Heh, maybe that's why I'm coming along really." He glanced sideways at Axel. "You're probably right about that."

"Hm?"

Demyx looked away. "What you said back when we were going into that village. You were right. We're rather inherently selfish, if you think about it."

"…I excepted you," Axel looked uncomfortable; both of them did, yet funnily enough neither of them wanted to be the one who ended the conversation. They each doggedly clung to the point, not particularly wanting the other to admit anything, just needing the conversation to happen for some reason.

"You were right about the village though. …I mean, I actually thought this would prove you wrong, you know? They seemed so selfless at first, offering us their best food, hospitable to a fault. …Alright, maybe the whole façade raised suspicions in _some_ part of me, but I kept telling myself it wasn't true. I was just on edge from our conversation earlier, et cetera. Well. That rationale was wrong; you were right. We were essentially being given our last meals, I suppose. Their idea of courtesy."

Axel snorted. "Fine. I told you so. On that, at least. But…then again. Unless I'm sadly mistaken, Aerith isn't like that either. And you aren't…not really." He paused, shifted awkwardly. "I remember what I said earlier. I'm…sorry. _You_ were right about that. I didn't mean that part of it. Sure, maybe, you're doing this for the legacy, whatever. But it's not like it's guaranteed in any way. Likely as not, we might end up as not even a footnote in later generations of archives. And, well, you're running for your life too, I guess. Nowhere else to go. Damn it all, I'm not doing this well, am I? My point is, I still maintain you're not doing this out of a general desire to improve the world's good. Gods help you if that is genuinely it, but I don't think so and I don't think you do either. But…you did save me. Without any real reason to. And then there's Aerith, who _really_ has no reason to save either of us, except maybe to preserve yours truly's fine looks," he smirked at Demyx, who rolled his eyes. "_Besides_ that, I don't see that she has any ulterior motive in dragging our sorry asses into her home and getting us back on our feet again. I suppose, I'm willing to make exceptions for you two. Maybe more. Maybe."

"Touching, Axel. Truly touching."

Axel grinned at him and pushed his way up against the wall. "Biting. I must be rubbing off on you. How the village elders would have harped."

"…I doubt they would have cared too much. Your corrupting influence on me would have hardly raised any eyebrows. Maybe a few more glares would have been directed your way. No more than that."

"Demyx, I rather think they would have used any excuse as evidence against me so they could be rid of me. Especially towards the end. Did you not see the meeting? You were there; I remember you saying so. Turned into a downright bloodthirsty mob from what I could tell."

Saying it aloud, now of all places and times, Axel realized just how right Demyx had been. "…that wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

"Hm?" Demyx looked at him questioningly.

Axel struggled for the words to express his sudden realization. "I took it for granted before, that the mob would form. As in, even before going that night, I just knew that I would have to run out of town that night. That shouldn't have happened, should it? It's…funny; I'm thinking this now because…I guess, it's so quiet now that I'm finally seeing this. All that rage wasn't really right, was it? That's what you were talking about before."

"…very good, Axel. A golden star for you." Demyx laughed and ducked the half-hearted swat aimed at his head. His glee sobered quickly as he turned his face to the sunlight. "Yes, that was what I was referring to. I guess…they say being a bard helps; you're sensitive to these types of things. Empathy, and all that."

"So…what? You think we can fix things? Hell, what are we even supposed to do assuming we make it to this damned castle?" Axel pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, little flickers of blue popping against his eyelids. "Like we're going to work some miracle that miraculously cures the land or whatever."

"We don't need to—if you think about it, Axel, it's not really so unnatural. The rage back at the village meeting, the way they were turning to scapegoats and human sacrifice at that last one. …The flowers and…things…monsters are a different case, that I grant you. But the other things; really, people are just running scared. They don't know what's going on and they're looking for people to blame it on so they can feel more secure."

"And we get rid of the source of that fear, and everything's all peachy keen again, is that it? Demyx, I hate to shatter your delusions, but it's not that simple. People are _still_ going to be running scared even after that's done and gone. And you know, you're implying kill the queen, aren't you? Right, like that isn't going to send the people into more of a panic, killing part of the royal family and assuring them that it's all for the best, really, trust us." Axel stopped. The silence around them was broken by the odd rustle of grass by the wind. It was easy to forget here…easy to forget the horrors, and just stay like this forever…

Just hurry, Axel. He reluctantly pulled himself away and opened his eyes. "When do you think we should leave? We shouldn't linger here more than necessary."

"…I thought you were in this for yourself," Demyx ribbed him easily, but not without the note of curiosity creeping into his voice at the same time. Axel shrugged. "It won't do me much good if this fear thing you've been talking about infects the whole land and there's no place to run in the end. No time for dilly-dally if we want to stop it in its tracks before the good…or I suppose in this case, the bad gets going."

Demyx rose to his feet, keeping a hand pressed against the wall for steadiness. He stood next to Axel, following the taller man's gaze into the distance. "I think I'm better. Decent food, healing, and sleep apparently did wonders. You know. I haven't actually asked or checked. How're my eyes looking?"

Axel looked down. "Well, if they're anything like mine, they should be much…like I said, they look fine to me now. Well…not completely. But you definitely look less like you're about to keel over than you did the last time I saw you."

"I _feel_ less like I'm about to keel over."

"Are you two going to come in or then proceed to keel over from hunger then?" She smiled at them. "It's just soup, but there's a lot of it. You can drink your fill. Demyx, I'm glad to hear your eyes are feeling better." Axel waited, shooed Demyx in with a flick of his eyes when the bard looked at him.

"Yes, Axel?" Axel still did not turn entirely to face her, eyes still fixed on some distant point in the sky. "Aerith…you said that something told your heart that we were out there and needed help." 

"Yes."

"Do you…have you ever noticed what that something was? I mean, is it just a feeling, or do you…" Axel scratched his head and grinned ruefully. "Heh, I'm not explaining well today. I guess what I'm asking is, have you ever felt like some_one_ was telling you these things and sending you these messages, I guess you can could call them?"

"All the time, Axel." She placed her flower basket carefully on the doorstep. The basket was empty. "Before you ask, I think we both know who this mysterious sender probably is. …has he contacted you too?"

Axel nodded slowly, wordlessly.

"Sometimes, I feel him quite strongly. I know not what he is, only that he is also a source of great power. He stands out like a beacon amongst all of us, outmatching all those with gifts without question. Yet…I think he is scared too. I feel a lot of mixed emotions emanating from that castle that sails into the distance day by day." Aerith laid a hand on his arm. "Axel, I don't know what will happen when you and Demyx arrive—"

"_If_ we arrive," Axel said dryly.

"—when you two enter the castle, I don't know what you will see, who you will meet. Yes, I've heard all the stories, I think. There may be great amounts of darkness in the young prince; it would not surprise me. With great power comes much burden and whoever he is, he must have many shadows hanging over his head. But he is not a monster."

"…I don't think anyone could call him that after having…you know. What we've seen…"

"You have seen him?" For the first time, granted, in their short acquaintance, he saw her calm composure give way. She looked utterly astonished. He blinked. "You haven't?"

"No. I have often felt him, as I said. I've…felt his presence in the surroundings, like a familiar wind that sweeps past the senses. But I've never seen him."

Axel waited for her to ask what he looked like, but she didn't. Which was surprising but also caused his respect for her to increase by several levels, as if it were not already high enough. He barely remembered his dream as it was, and certainly not this mysterious prince's appearance, if that was indeed who it had been. What was it…something about sorcery? And there had been a room, a white room, and…mostly he remembered the outstanding urgency. Hurry.

For the rest of the day, Axel could not sit still. Always, his gaze kept returning to the horizon as if his eyes could see the tiny speck of a castle against the darkening sky, wondering.

"Alright, Axel, who's placed an enchantment of enhanced fascination upon you? Hello?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! No water! I'm unspelled; I swear!" Axel flung up his hands before his face, warding off the dreaded threat of water. "I was just thinking."

"About what? Don't tell me you've started worrying about what we're going to do once we get—"

"Um. Actually…"

"…why? Why all of a sudden?"

So Axel told him. He didn't know why he had not mentioned this sooner to Demyx; their minds had been on slightly different topics earlier in the day perhaps, but now everything spilled out of him. The foggy memories of the dreams, what Aerith had said to him. "And I keep getting this feeling that we've got a time limit on this thing, that it might be far away or it might be soon and getting sooner, I don't know. And god knows where we are even, how far we've wandered off our trail…"

"Oh. That. You don't know yet?" Demyx asked cheerfully. "Aerith said we're a slant line away from the capital. So, yes, we did, as you put it, wander a tad off-kilter, but not horrifically so. Does that ease your mind?"

"What are we doing—are we even doing anything in the city?"

"…I should be asking you that, shouldn't I?"

Axel shifted uncomfortably. "I did originally think about lingering in the comforts of…they had some pretty nice lodgings last I checked, and it's far easier to be lost as a nameless face in the bustling city than it is in small villages. But now, I'm not sure anymore, alright?"

"We still need to get to the city though, if only to catch our breaths and get our bearings on the correct direction. …um. Axel?"

"Mm? Spit it out, Dem. You have that look on your face," Axel smirked at him.

It became Demyx's turn to squirm in his seated position. "I had been thinking…for a while now. We could just stay in an inn; there's no real reason why we couldn't, but…"

"Oh? A female acquaintance I don't know about? Start with details; I want to hear this."

Demyx waved Axel back frantically. "It's nothing like that! Just…I know a friend—male! that I think might be willing to put us up. And it'd be a lot cheaper and probably more comfortable than having to buy rooms in an inn, I think."

"There are details you're leaving out, regardless of this 'friend's' gender, aren't there?"

Demyx waved him aside. "Axel, I've been meaning to ask…"

"And this is not a blatant change of subject, I suppose."

"I've been meaning to ask; how much closer do you think we are now to the castle than we were back at that last village?"

Axel snorted. "What do I look like, some kind of mathematician and cartographer rolled up in one? …ew, perish that thought. I guess we're some miles closer…I don't know; why?"

"I was thinking…there's been time to do a lot of that recently after all. It's not actually that far from where we started. Wherever you first noticed an increase in your ability to communicate with fire certainly couldn't have been that far from the village back home. And if the increase happens so rapidly…have you tried again? Since…you know."

Axel was silent. "…Aerith has a fire going. I can hear it."

"So can I, Axel; we're only on the door—"

"No. I can _hear_ it, Demyx. And then there was your playing this morning and the havoc it wreaked on the well, if you want more examples."

"…is it saying anything?"

"Does the water ever say anything translatable to you?" Axel retorted.

"…point taken. Axel, have you thought about what it's like within the very shadow of the castle then? If it's already amplifying our gifts to this extent while we're here…"

"All the more reason to get there sooner and find out then, right?" Axel's grin was a few millimeters beyond what could be deemed completely sane. Demyx stared, disturbed. "…you demented pyromaniac."

"Sticks and stones, bard. Or perhaps, being of that very profession, you've never believed that particular adage." He stuck out his tongue just as childishly as Demyx did.

There is still poison in you, Axel. And in Demyx, as well. Though I did tell you to hurry… I don't know; I really don't. Axel? Let me tell you something? I don't know what's going to happen. I can give you a gift; I can suppress the effects of the poison until…well, until it can be properly cured. But…just…be careful. To put selfishness into play here, I would really _really_ prefer you to arrive safe and undamaged than otherwise.

Axel, have you ever heard a songbird? I haven't. You must tell me what it's like some time. For the longest time, I thought such creatures were the stuff of dreams and poetry. I suppose the actual bird in reality does not sound as sweet as the writers describe it to be. I would like to judge for myself though.

"Thanks for…everything, you know. Just…thanks, Aerith."

Axel started when Aerith stood on her tiptoes and planted a very sweet kiss on his cheek. At least he still had some composure, enough that he was fairly certain he was not blushing at any rate. Demyx did not fare so well in that respect, the poor boy. Aerith smiled at them both as Demyx's face changed in shades of red and his mouth alternated between parting and closing. "Take care, you two." Her curved lips changed in direction, fleetingly altering into a frown. "I don't like the thought of you going now, when neither of you've rested enough…"

"There'll be time enough for that after, hopefully." Axel shrugged. Now that they weren't taking it easy anymore, for the brief time that they had, something had begun flaring up behind his eye again. It didn't hurt; it was more a…a verge. Just on the edge of pain, but not quite there, an irritating rough grain rubbing against his eye. Aerith looked at him sharply, and he had the feeling that she knew…

"You should be able to see the city very soon. Within an hour of walking at least. As far as I know, there should be no other dangers between you and the city now. What lies beyond that though…I can't say."

"Still. We wouldn't have made it this far, if it weren't for your kindness, dear lady." Yes, yes, he had no intention of any funny business with her, but still. It was habit for him to slip these little bits of flattery and honorifics into his conversations with the fairer sex. He also couldn't resist this as a test of sorts, if only to see how Aerith, different from most of the women he had previously made the acquaintance of, would react. She gave him a wry glance; oh yes, she knew exactly what he was doing, if, hopefully, perhaps not the reasons.

Axel, these will perhaps come less frequently

"Axel?"

but I somehow doubt it. Less intrusively. Let that be my goal and yours. Is this invasion? Is this what she did? But it's my only way of communicating. Perhaps, one day, you will no longer notice these; they will not even be conscious thoughts, indistinguishable from the background of noise buzzing within every person's mind. But I will know, won't I? And how decent is this? I don't know; someone needs to tell me. I could tell you so many things about Aerith—I know so many things. She's missing someone, you know. I think I saw him once: black hair, violet eyes. She misses him dearly. I don't know how I know this; I shouldn't be telling you this. But then again, this is not conscious thought. You're only aware of this on some level. You feel me there, but of what I'm saying, only the vaguest necessary concepts will sink in.


	6. Many Meetings

"Axel." Demyx peered into his face, way too close within his comfort zone now. Axel scowled. "What? Um, a little space, if you would please, Demyx?"

"You were…do you remember leaving Aerith at all? Anything?"

"Of course. We thanked her, said our goodbyes, and she said we shouldn't have too much trouble getting to the royal city. And she watched us go even."

Demyx shook his head. "It's just…you seemed rather entranced. I don't know for how long because I wasn't paying enough attention to have noticed when exactly it started. You…you were walking like a man in a dream."

Axel hesitated, considered for a brief moment telling Demyx how he remembered. The knowing look that had descended in Aerith's eyes when the haze fell upon him. She had known what was happening. Probably hadn't said a thing though. And he remembered walking, had heard Demyx's concerned callings of his name for quite a while now, only…echoing and distorted as if from across a great crevasse in the land. He just had not felt the inclination to answer, because it wasn't his name Demyx was calling; he was just a bystander watching from afar…except he was Axel. That was his name and—Axel shook his head briskly.

"What is it? What's going on, Axel?"

He compromised. "I…talked to Aerith about this. I think whoever's inside the castle's trying to talk to me. It's just…I can't hear him. It. Whatever. I can just feel his presence trying to make itself known."

"You mean…? Wait, no, you just said you can't hear him, so it's not telepathy. What? Possession?"

"No…it's more…you ever get a feeling when people are boring a hole into the back of your head with their staring and you can feel it, even though nothing's actually touching you? Wait, why am I asking? Of course, you do. At least, if people treated you anything like they did to me back home sweet home. At any rate, it's…it can be compared to that sensation, I guess. Not a very _good_ comparison, but there you go."

"…I don't understand. Does he do this to everybody? I kind of doubt it, unless the only reason you're able to sense him is because of you being gifted…but even so, why you? You haven't received any feelings of malice or ill-will, have you?"

"Demyx. Call yourself a bard. If I did somehow manage to catch on that this…person hates all of us and is attempting to bring about the end of the human race, I think he would be more than capable of preventing me from saying so. If that were the case. And no, I haven't picked up any of that?" Axel paused, mouth still open, hung in mid-thought.

"What is it?"

Axel shook his head. "It's just…I think he's scared."

Aerith had spoken accurately. It seemed only a short conversation later and the city appeared over the edge of the horizon, growing ever larger with every step they took. It had a presence, silent, but commanding. Really, if someone had asked Demyx what he thought as he gazed upon it, he would have responded quite unnerved that it was sneering down at its visitors.

When they approached the city, Axel realized how much he had either forgotten or distorted within his memories. He remembered having at least spent much of his childhood here, if not even born here, although he didn't remember his parents at all. Just his blacksmith uncle who he didn't especially dislike, but took no pains to make it easy for him either. He remembered being pretty much left to his own devices, his uncle not one for the headache that was known as childrearing, and once getting over the wonder at everyone and thing towering yards above him…there was boredom.

Happily setting tinder on fire and hiding in order to hear the outraged cries of the owner that eventually became routine pretty quickly. And then he'd hit puberty and for the longest time, thought that the fire talking to him was a natural part of growing up. Until he realized he could persuade fire to do things and it would listen to him, _but that other people couldn't do the same_. That's when, pardon the pun, the fireworks had really started. He wasn't exactly banished from the city, but he strongly suspected he had been on the verge of when he left of his own accord, finding the city too small to contain him. And thinking back, that logic confused him as to why he had then decided to spend approximately five years living in the same small village. But then, maybe he would have felt the restless urge to up and leave the village given another ten years or so. If he had stayed, that is.

"Not what you remembered?" Demyx asked quietly in his ear.

"Is it that obvious?"

Demyx shook his head. "No. But after I've spent upwards of several weeks trekking with you and you alone, I'd be surprised if I were any less attuned to your expressions."

Axel looked up at the walls. They did not seem so intimidating anymore. There had been a need, if he cared to analyze, as a small child to raze the buildings to his level. Now his passions had changed and yet stayed the same. He smiled shortly. "Just remembering me being a hell spawn of a child." And suddenly, the thought occurred to him to wonder if his uncle was still alive. The man had been…what? He had seemed ridiculously old, but Axel did not trust his judgment as skewed through the eyes of a child. It had only been five years _that short a time, really_ since he had left in order to seek new wonders to destroy in the world. The man must still be somewhere in the city and Axel found himself nervous all of a sudden. Would he be recognized? If he were, would his uncle immediately try to beat him into the ground for his insolence or fall weeping at his feet at the reunion? Neither of the possibilities presented itself very favorably to his mind. Hopefully, and more likely than not, they would not even meet. Or if they did meet, no remarks would be made. The man might even be dead, for all he knew.

"Everything seems shorter now," Demyx murmured wonderingly beside him. Axel laughed. "I was just thinking the same. Wait, you've lived here? As a child?"

"I grew up here," Demyx replied, shooting him a quick unreadable glance.

Axel refused to be deterred, if that was indeed Demyx's intent in the sharp look. "I never saw you before."

"And I'd never seen you." They eyed each other carefully. They knew each other to be close in age and logically, their childhood had to have overlapped in time. Certainly, the city was large, but, well, he supposed it was a possibility. "What district?"

"Oh." Demyx seemed to have come to a realization. Axel prodded. "Well…?"

Demyx shifted uncomfortably. "I grew up near the palace?"

"Royal brat much?" Axel asked lightly.

That finally coaxed a small laugh out of Demyx. "By only a little bit. My father very foolishly squandered the inheritance he had left to him as a noble. I still grew up in the district closer to the palace though. You…?"

Axel's voice came out a little harsher than he would have liked. "The dirt poor district apparently." They both winced and Axel softened his tone slightly. "Although if you ever heard about a weird red-headed little monster running around, setting chopped wood on fire everywhere… Yes, that would have been me."

"I don't think you were quite as notorious as you think then."

"Dem. The city gates are on the other side, aren't they?"

Demyx looked at him, then turned to study the white walls rising above them, which gleamed with not a break in the smooth stone. He groaned. "Yes. Yes, they are. Damn."

They walked along in silence before Axel finally wondered aloud, "So who is this friend of yours? Anyone I know?"

A faint smile rose on Demyx's lips. "No…at least, I'm fairly certain you've not met. I've not seen him for several years."

"And you've absolute faith in his willingness to put up with two unannounced guests, especially when you two have not spoken in several years?"

Demyx still had that strange little smile on his face. "Yes. I'm sure."

Axel grinned. "All right, spill it, Dem. Childhood love? Did you promise to marry each other when a little older or what?"

He felt a little burn of satisfaction when Demyx immediately blushed a bright red. "What? No! Nothing like that!"

"Liar. Come on; not like there's anyone I could tell this to."

If it were even possible, Demyx's blush turned a shade darker and more obvious. "Well, Zexion and I were best friends…"

Axel snorted. "That's descriptive, Demyx. Details, man, details! It's what separates great storytellers from bards." At Demyx's sudden glare, he raised his hands in sudden surrender. "Sorry! Sorry."

"I should refuse to tell you anything more after that." Demyx was still looking rather annoyed.

"Ah, but then you wouldn't want me to piece together the little you've told me and come out with the wrong implications now, would you?"

"Zexion and I were best friends. We grew up almost as next door neighbors." Demyx paused. "We weren't like other kids. The other boys all wanted to play with wooden swords and imagine what it would be like to be in glorious battles. I…I preferred hearing about battles then actually fighting in them. And I wasn't much of a fighter; I got bruises left and right whenever I tried. Zexion also didn't like to play. He spent most of his free time with an open book. So we kind of were always left behind when the other kids ran outdoors, the both of us. So we just became friends, I guess. He didn't talk much; I was always the one carrying out mostly one-sided conversations, but I…I think he liked the—my company."

"And?"

"And what?"

Axel waved a hand. "What happened when you left? Come to think of it, why did you leave?"

Demyx bit his lip. "My father didn't like having a musician for a son. I…the pressure at home was getting uncomfortable so I forced myself to leave. It was hard. I didn't really want to, but then I was also unwilling to be as much a part of the royal court as my father wanted me to be. I told Zexion I was leaving and he told me to take care of myself." He smiled at the memory. "I think he implied a threat there as regards to I'd better take care of myself or face his wrath. And trust me, Zexion enraged, not just annoyed or condescending, is scary. The books he read…reads are heavy. But yes, I told him and we promised to see each other again soon." Demyx looked up at the sky. "I don't know if either of us thought it would be for so long. Our being apart, I mean."

Axel cocked an eyebrow. "So you do have a thing for him."

Demyx flushed. "I never said that!"

"Implied."

_I can't wait to see him I hope he remembers me I hope we are still…us_

They made it _finally_ to the city gates without too much scuffling. Which was fortunate for them, for the guards posted there were looking suspiciously their direction already. Axel was disoriented as he stared up at the black gates. White on the outside and the doorway into its center….but no, the making of metaphors was Demyx's job, not his.

It was difficult to convince the guards to let them into the city. For one, the village, their village, was apparently located so far away that few, if anyone, had ever heard of it and no one seemed to believe that the two could walk such a distance and still be in one piece. Or two pieces, as it were in this case. Apparently. Lazy inaccurate asses, these cartographers, was Axel's private opinion. Axel, many times during this encounter, was tempted to whip out his flint, strike a spark, and cause it to blaze to life, to ask the terrified spectators, "See this? This is how we've survived and made it this far." He refrained if only because of the fear of cold iron.

But they were doing a good job thus far. The guards were not yet calling for backup or for shackles to be bourn from the prison. But then Demyx mentioned the name of "Zexion" and it all went downhill from there.

One of the guards looked at his partner upon hearing the name and the two exchanged a silent glance that was full of meaning that Axel desperately wished he could read. When they returned their gazes to Axel and Demyx, they looked unfavorably meaner. "Why do you seek this man?"

Axel tried to poke Demyx surreptitiously, but the blond ignored him. Axel put a hand on his pouch. True, even if Demyx knew that explaining that Zexion was a close acquaintance of his at this point would probably cause them to at the very very least be barred from entering the city, considering the way the guards were glaring at them now, he doubted Demyx would even consider denouncing his friend in order to gain passage. Demyx…just wasn't like that.

And sure enough, as Demyx explained, in briefer detail than he had to Axel, the nature of his relationship with Zexion and his need to ask him for shelter during their brief stay in the city, Axel began fidgeting more and more nervously.

The guards looked at each other again and this time, one of them nodded. He stayed while the other immediately turned his back and marched into the city as the gate creaked open. Axel considered racing in, but then decided that getting locked within like a rat in a trap was worse than not being able to get in and remaining freer on the outside. Demyx seemed to realize now that something was really wrong. "What are you doing? Can we pass?"

"You associate yourselves with a man known to the populace as an enemy of the Crown."

Demyx's eyes widened as the guard continued in a monotone. "You will be permitted inside in due time, but brief detainment at the hands of their Royal majesties must occur before you will be permitted to roam freely."

Axel had heard enough. "Dem, let's go."

"You are not permitted to leave."

Axel laughed in his face, literally having stepped forward and shoved his lanky frame too close to the guard. "Try and stop us."

Steel scraped across flint, and he very gratefully thanked whatever or whoever was causing their gifts to amplify. The spark flickered with almost no persuasion into a warm ball of dangerous life. Axel grinned nastily at the guard's expression as the man's eyes locked onto the ball of fire. "Dem, let's go."

He grabbed Demyx's arm, without waiting for an answer, and said, almost as an afterthought. "Just in case." The guard began running just as the tiny flame sailed towards him. In midair, it burst into life, immediately eating away hungrily at the standards that hung from the gateway.

"Axel!"

"Not now, Dem," he sang, pulling Demyx into a run.

"Axel, why in Hades—stop! Would you do that?"

"We're not stopping. Now." Axel did not spare the breath to turn back and smirk at Demyx. "We've got to run."

"Stop, stop!" Demyx pulled his arm away and Axel considered continuing his run. He reluctantly turned. "Are you suicidal? We have to run now."

"We shouldn't have to! What was that?"

Axel huffed in irritation. "Demyx. That was them going to "detain" us because of you and your lovely relationship with Zexion. "Detain" usually meaning a few nights in a cold dungeon. And you're supposed to be the bard! Have you forgotten all tales of the queen and suspicions of the royal court being not quite right as of now?"

Even from this distance, the sounds of the gate creaking open and muffled shouts were still audible. Demyx glared. "We will talk about this."

"I'm sure we will," Axel remarked dryly before pulling Demyx into a frantic run again.

Problem was this was a large, bare plain with very little vegetation in sight. Hiding, while preferable, was a difficult action to perform. They flew across the ground, Axel still partially dragging Demyx. The only hope lay in the possibility that the army, as a large mass, would be moving far more slowly than they were running. Maybe.

They ran.

And ran.

And then Axel dodged back around, making in the general direction of the city again. Demyx's eyes bulged. "Ax—el!" He panted for breath. "Are—you insane?"

"No!" Axel called gaily. One would not have inferred from this tone any sign of danger at all if merely provided with aural cues. The distinct sound of clamor from within the city grew louder as they approached the pale walls and Demyx winced as much as he was able to. To have come this far…and to die here because Axel had clearly lost his mind.

He felt his theory proven correct when Axel skidded to a stop and pressed a finger to his temple, eyes going blank even as they lifted to look back in the direction they had come from. Demyx buried his face in his free hand. Then he looked up when a muffled boom came from the front gates of the city and smoke poured into the air.

The redhead was grinning madly as he lowered his arm. "Thought so."

"Axel, what did you—"

"Later." He dragged Demyx into a sprint, but no longer at the same frenzied pace they had been keeping in the past minutes. Eventually, Demyx began tripping over his feet more than was already happening as his legs began giving out. "Ax—el. Stop. Please."

"Hm." Axel slowed and looked back. Dark smoke towered into the air above the now distant city. "I suppose. It's far enough."

Demyx collapsed onto his hands on the ground, catching his breath. Axel sat, a little less desperately than Demyx had, and stared back at the city, a faint smile tugging at the edges of his lips. After a few minutes, Demyx turned over and glared. "What the hell, Axel?"

Axel shrugged in an excellent show of nonchalance. "He was threatening to throw us in jail. Or a dungeon. Take your pick."

"And now they'll probably kill us on sight!"

"Well, we just make sure they never find us."

Demyx sighed and buried his head in his arms. "What did you do?" He shifted position and peeked an eye at the sky framing the horizon behind. "Gods, the sky is completely overtaken with smoke."

"You ever hear stories about how alchemists very carelessly pour their failed potions or in general unused liquids into the sewers?" Axel broke out into a full smirk. "Apparently, they have some grain of truth in them. I wasn't running aimlessly, you know. We were running alongside a sewer line that I'd noticed walking towards the gate earlier. Simple thing to locate the flames and coax them down into the pipes and tunnels."

"You chaotic being. Now we really can't go back. Why burn the city when you were so torn about being unable to stop a village fire a few days back?" Demyx was scowling.

Axel was quiet for a moment. "It's different. These people can handle it." He grinned. "What happened to wanting to save the world anyways, Dem?"

Demyx stretched out his legs and lay back. "I suppose…we really have to now. OH GODS!" He shot up, eyes wide. "ZEXION!"

Axel clamped a hand on Demyx's mouth. "What the hell, Demyx?" he hissed. "Are you trying to get them all running this way? If I let go now, would you please be quiet?"

Demyx nodded and when Axel pulled his hand away, his voice was lowered, but still containing that scared note of grief. "But I want to know what happened to Zex! What did those guards mean, he was an enemy of the state? I know Zex, he's quiet, he wouldn't hurt a fly, I don't understand, what happened to him?"

Axel stared at him. His usual callous words did not seem appropriate here, not when Demyx looked and sounded on the verge of tears. Yet what was there that he could really say? "We'll see, Dem. We can't go back and ask anyone. It's really saving the world or else now, I guess." He scratched his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't, Ax." Demyx stared beyond Axel, back at the smoking city. "It's just…something's wrong there." He turned back. "Can't you feel it? There's something…some disease choking the land. It's started with the city, but it's rooting itself deep into the world. Remember what we said?"

"And it starts with the castle, is that it?"

Demyx looked down at his hands. The tips of his fingers were calloused and dark, deep grooves having been worn into the pads. Despite his passion for music, or more so because of it more like, his hands had seen much work both in accomplishing his goal and in other things. "Maybe. _We_ start with it."

"You ready to start moving again then?"

They trekked a little more slowly this time, walking steadily, but not breaking out into a run. Still keeping a cautious watch behind them though. The sounds of a city in uproar no longer was audible to their ears, but there was no guarantee there were no patrols still out looking for them. The smoke still poured into the sky.

"At least that's one way to keep our directions about us. Not that it matters much, I suppose. Does anyone actually know where this drifting building is? It's not as if anyone would be inclined to mark it on a map."

They stopped. Axel had raised a valid point. Axel and Demyx stood still, in the middle of the plains once more. Nothing visible in the sky indicated in any way where a floating castle might now be. "…I don't suppose any legends or accounts you've heard indicated any directions. By any chance? No memory of a brief phrase in passing of it being directly south? No…landmarks?"

"…no one who's actually sought this castle and reached the bitter end has exactly written down explicit instructions for the guidance of future travelers, Axel."

"Really. How kind of you to acquaint me with that fact. I feel so enlightened now; I could just float into the clouds and look for the thing myself."

"I think it's safe to say that my playing with words has rubbed off on you to an extent."

"Well, someone has to repair the toys you break."

"Look who's talking. Who just burnt down an entire city?"

"Hey, hey, hey! For one, I did not set fire to the entire city, nor did I ever have that intention. I just made enough of a diversion that we could get away safely with any and all of the guards being too preoccupied to chase after us. Second, none of it's going to actually burn to the ground; stop worrying. I'm not so suicidal as all that. Nor as homicidal. I don't think the city is filled entirely with beings of pure evil who deserve to go up in flames, for your information."

"That's good to hear. As always."

"As always? What other time have you mistakenly assumed that I was going to burn down a city's worth of land?"

"Oh, very rarely. Just once upon first entering that forest. And then the swamp. Many times I feared a wildfire would rage upon the plains. There was also that village that you came very…" Demyx hesitated, unsure if this was a sore point or not. Axel seized this opportunity to break in. "Exaggerator. There were not so many threats of me razing those places as you make it out to be."

"From whose point of view? Are you sure you haven't stated so many of these threats that you've become entirely unaware of the words flowing out of your mouth now?"

"Horse shit, Dem. I don't toss off idle threats at the snap of the fingers. If I did, well, then, my reputation would face many problems, wouldn't it? Word would get around that that fire-starting fellow, what's his name, Axel isn't as tough as he seems and, bam, there goes a large portion of the talent that was keeping me well-fed."

"…You consider threat making a talent? What do you consider yourself to be, a professional con man or thief?"

"…Do I damn myself by saying neither of those prospects sound too distasteful?"

"Only to some, Axel. Only to some."

It was a little while later of mundane walking that no one needed to hear about let alone actually walk through that Demyx looked around them and wondered aloud. "There has to be people living somewhere though. It's not as if only the inhabitable land exists to the north of the main city. Even if a giant castle floating in this general direction intimidated people, there had to have been villages and towns here already, even before it was set in motion."

"Maybe they all ran away. Gods know, Demyx, people do stupid, insane things when they're panicked."

"Then where are the ghost towns, the deserted villages? You can't tell me that they've crumbled so quickly that no visible remnants are left at all." Demyx swept a hand around the still landscape. "Come to think of it, why are there so few records of the land in these parts? It's not as if the land is linear and researchers only went in a straight line. They had to have examined a wide circle of land, maybe centered on—"

"Why are you asking this, Demyx?" Axel pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes and rubbed hard. "Don't expect any answers from me. I don't know. Like I said. People are cowards. Any records that existed vanished in a mysterious selective fire. I might even be right. The queen has a far reach like you said; I don't think that would have been too difficult for her to accomplish."

Demyx had paused for Axel's outburst, but as soon as he was certain Axel had no more to say, he continued as if he had not hurt a word. "And there's something else. Where's all the wildlife? If there are no humans at all around here, the wild animals ought to have flourished without people to hunt them, right?"

"Do you really want a horde of mutated animals chasing our asses _again_ then? I mean, I know you're masochistic and all that, already. No need to wish doom down on our heads to prove it to me."

The bard looked petulant. "I'm serious, Axel."

"I know—and that still doesn't give me any sudden divine intervention so that I suddenly have the answers to your questions. I can't magically make a tender little deer appear like that in front of us, nor a village out of nowhere."

"But can't you feel the strangeness of it? Just…it's too quiet out here."

"…you spoony bard. Have you not heard enough stories to learn that that is the worst possible thing to say? Ever? Especially when we're out in the open like this. Thanks. I expect demon spawn to rain from the sky any second now. You've doomed us all."

"Axel, contrary to popular belief, evil and feral creatures don't hover around, waiting for those exact words as a signal to attack." Despite his dismissive words, Demyx still looked around not quite as casually as he had before.

"Aw, have I made you paranoid? Don't worry; I'll roast any predators that appear for you. …Hell, we could use the food. Not that there'd be any guarantee that they wouldn't poison us upon being eaten, but you know. Well, so far, the…strange and unusual creatures we've encountered have been rather visibly odd, so…"

"…we're not eating anything either of us kill on the way there. Gods, Axel—"

"Jesting! I was kidding; calm down, Dem."

"As if you think I'd partake of such food after all the magical creatures we've encountered. Or did you forget that you were wandering around in a stupefied daze after merely _breathing_ in the smoke of the worm aftermath?"

"Dem. I wasn't serious. I'm not dumb enough to just eat the first random animal I see and toast, alright? Not to mention, not quite starving enough either."

"Wonderful. Good to know and hear."

Walking was a mundane activity. If he could, Axel would have sworn off walking for at least a year after this out of sheer boredom with the whole task.

"Axel. Look. Is that smoke?"

Axel closed his eyes and huffed a condescending breath. "Demyx, in case you didn't notice all the previous opportunities you had—"

"Not behind us, gods, Axel. I'm not empty-headed. I don't mean that towering pillar of destruction you created. I mean that thin stream in _front_ of us. Axel, opening your eyes is kind of a requirement for the act of looking."

"I see better without my eyes in this case," Axel drawled, still keeping his eyes lidded. "Shh…don't distract me." They were tiny, barely little more than mewling newborns, but, gods, it was beautiful to see them rear their small heads…if they had physical heads to rear, that is, as soon as they felt his touch, heard his call. Little spirits of pride and untamable hungers. Axel sighed happily.

"Axel?" Reluctantly, said redhead opened his eyes. "What? Oh. Right. Yes, there do appear to be little flames some ways before us. The beginnings of fire pits, I would say if I had to hazard a guess. …What?"

Demyx bit his lip, the corners of his mouth still twitching. "You looked…very pleasured while doing that. If you know what I mean." A smile quirked.

Axel snorted. "Well, now you know what you look like when you imagine little water nymphs, ocean boy. Come on, those little babies are waiting for me."

"…you would think you're referring to a brothel from the way you're speaking and reacting."

Axel's grin was feral. "Oh, my babes provide far more fun than the largest brothel on this gods forsaken world could. For one thing, it's no doubt that they're intensely _hotter_."

"Lord, Axel, that was awful."

"Hey, some of us lowly mortals have to resort to bad puns with the lack of your divinely given talents of wordplay. Or so you bards like to claim whilst providing evidence to the contrary."

Demyx rolled his eyes. This was just something Axel was going to dog him with for the rest of their days, he suspected.

He looked up and blinked. "…the smoke's gone. Axel? How close were we?"

"That isn't a problem." Axel stood, frowning at the ground beneath them. "What is…they didn't put the cinders out, how sloppy." His eyes focused again. "No, what's strange is…I can feel them, but they're…they're moving. Not like fire naturally moves. I mean, moving as in suddenly vanishing from a position on the ground to a higher position to the side and now they're even higher." He waved vaguely above his head. "That a high, at a guess."

"Magical fire?" Demyx ventured. Axel was still scowling in concentration. "No…it's not fluid movement. It's more sudden. As if teleporting more than moving of its own will. I've never heard of that happening before, have you?" He didn't wait to see Demyx's shake of the head. "Then again, someone could just be casting a teleportation spell on the fire…which is pointless and silly. No…that can't be it. Fire doesn't stay by itself, hovering in midair. It's stopped by the way. It's still yea high."

"You want to go towards it?"

Axel shrugged. "I don't see why not. It's a more certain direction to head in. Not like we know which way we're supposed to be going anyways. Or are you still terrified of flame and especially me coming into contact with fire?" 

"I suppose I have to trust you to be responsible at some point. …which is a terrifying thought in of itself. You being responsible, I mean."

"You're a lark, Demyx, you really are. Um. You want to volunteer to venture in first? For the record, caves are also going on the rapidly growing list of terrains I dislike."

"…you're able to produce a source of light. Light bearer first."

"And ladies second?" Axel sneered as Demyx stuck out his tongue. "Well…you're right about the light." He reached out a hand. A pinprick of light appeared within the darkness of the cave mouth and surged towards them, rapidly increasing in size. It lit past ribbed, curved walls of rock as it did so before the small ball of flame alighted in Axel's open palm. The dim lighting was much better than the pitch blackness of before, but still. It did not prevent long menacing shadows from being cast by twisting formations of cold stone.

"Well, we either go in or we don't at all. It's now or keep going."

"Good gods, don't leave the choice up to me. Why would you do that?" Axel rolled his eyes when Demyx only shrugged in response, looking no more comfortable than Axel felt about venturing in. "Fine. Wuss."

At least, it wasn't dripping. A dank, damp cave would have turned Axel off completely; he would have been on his way _out_ in a heartbeat. Goddamn it, he'd had enough of watery regions to last him more than a lifetime, thank you Mother Nature very much, and fuck you too. Thankfully, it was dry, echoing, but dry. And warm, too. Surprisingly so for a place composed entirely of stone that was cool to the touch. "You know, if it weren't for this place being so dark, this would actually make a good place to hole up in for quite a while. Pretty cozy." Axel waved his hand around the high cavern they were in. It was then he noticed and his expression tightened. The shadows were all wrong. The cave was largely empty, sure there were a few pillars near the walls, almost as if some thoughtful architect had placed them there to make the place less rustic. There were too many shadows flying about the walls and the floor for—

"I'm glad you think so."

The cave went pitch black as a huge wave of water washed over Axel. The little ball of flame obviously went out. Beautiful, resilient, destructive, Axel might consider it; it still could not withstand the element opposing it suddenly dousing it completely and mercilessly.

"Demyx!"

"Whoa, whoa, chill out, dude. Can I get some light in here?"

The drawling voice still echoed around the room so that they could not tell from which direction it was originally coming from. High above them, on the ceiling, sparks flew. Axel rolled his eyes and held out his hand. The fleeting points of light immediately burst into life.

"Huh. Useful that. Don't suppose you'd be willing to lend it to us?"

Demyx looked around them. "Where…"

Axel paid him no attention; he could already guess. The scrape of rough rock against blade, the sudden emanation of these little baby flames. And the fact that the light now illuminating the cave came from above…Axel looked up. He took a step backwards even though his mind had already guessed at what his eyes would find up there.

"Eh, sorry, dudes. Disorienting, I know. Well, I don't really know myself, but I can imagine. Well, might as well get you up here then. I don't really feel like reorienting the room itself. Too much trouble to have to put things in place again."

The world turned. Axel found himself falling, reached out a hand, and felt strong arms catch him and steady him. "Sorry about that. We didn't know you were friendly. Can't exactly tell just by looking, you know."

Axel stared around him. Besides the eye-patched man speaking before him, he could now see others in the shadows, vague glimpses of movement from in and out of the pillars. Pillars…that now looked slightly different in shape and size. He looked up. It was harder to tell without a view to the outside but still… Axel felt bile rise. "That's…that's the floor."

"You get used to it." The man laughed carelessly. "Hell, you have to after living for years with it. It's akin to your manipulation of fire, flame master. You get used to reaching out for torch light. And you, water master." He nodded at Demyx. "Can't walk past a pond without pausing, can you?"

"You're gifted? Let me guess. With the very force that normally keeps us tied to the ground?"

"That's me. Name's Xigbar, kid. What about you two?"

"…is that your real name then?" Axel grinned slowly, eyes hooded. This was the game he liked to play. Granted, the man might actually be honest…but hell if he was going to be outplayed. "Seems an awfully risky thing to take on trust. Especially for a gang hiding out in the middle of nowhere and eager to not be discovered by the wrong people. What've you say to say to that, Yellow Eye?"

"You're gifted too," Demyx interrupted quietly, eyes on this…Xigbar. "Are all your friends gifted as well? Are you on the run then?"

"Depends who's asking, kid."

"…I'm Demyx. I'll let him tell you his name if he wants to. But you all had to leave, didn't you? The villagers grew frightened, their need for your gifts began to pale in comparison to their fear of the unknown, the greatest fear of all, and it then became a dilemma of flight or death. That's what happened to all of you as well, isn't it."

Xigbar opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again. "…you make an awfully good case, Demyx. You come up with that all on your own?"

"It's not every day you find a group of people who're in hiding these days with their spokesman being a gifted himself without assuming the rest of them are gifted too… I just observed. Observation alone carried me to a point a few guesses away from the truth. What I said. That is the truth, isn't it? A straight answer please."

"Correct, Demyx." Xigbar turned his jaundiced gaze onto Axel amusedly. "And you, redhead? You as trusting as your friend here."

"Oh, far from it, old man." Axel smirked back. "But I think I'll trust Dem's judgment this one time. Name's Axel. So you saw us coming?"

"Didn't have to." Xigbar nodded backwards into the throng of shadowy figures. It shifted as one. "August somewhere back there felt you coming. Couldn't risk being smoked out by just anyone, so I moved the whole company up here. Sorry for the vertigo. How'd you find _us_?"

"Tip for the future, Xigbar. Though there're likely no other people in tune with fire in this area, me having taken up that particular mantle. Just putting out a fire isn't good enough. The embers are traceable by themselves. Especially out here so near the castle."

The entire company fell still at that. Xigbar looked at them curiously, warily. "What did you mean when you said that about the castle?"

Axel rolled his eyes. "Please. Don't pretend even you all have not heard those rumors flying around about this floating castle that's steadily been moving away from the city in this direction. Generally."

"And?"

"And, if you must know, Demyx and I came from quite a bit away. Same village kicked us out, well, kicked _me_ out really, but Demyx's eviction was coming up soon too. And the very reason we got the boot was because our gifts were dimming back there to the point of uselessness. Not so the closer we got towards the city. It felt almost as if something was amplifying our gifts and—that's why you're here, isn't it? There's plenty of wide open space to the north of the city. Why not go there? Because you know about the castle, you know this already, and you're deliberately getting close to it, is that it?" Axel grinned. "Tempting prospect of power, is it?"

"Survival of the fittest, kid. Ever hear of that?" Xigbar's shoulders relaxed. Axel's words might inspire annoyance and rage in many, but they apparently reassured Xigbar. "I guess I'll be straight with you two. More completely this time. Yes, we all got kicked out of our respective villages. Some of us were more than happy to dust off our boots and leave those old geezers behind, good riddance. Not like they were offering us anything special. Mediocre food, a roof to keep out the rain and snow. Pft. Half of us here could provide those things, just not all at once. Who among them could do the things we can do? If they wanted to shoo us away just because they turned scared, fine by us. Ahem. As I was saying.

So a bunch of us wandered out here into these parts. We'd all heard the stories. Anyways, we were curious about this castle. It's good to find out more about such a thing, ally yourself with it, rather than…well, I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side on whatever's in that castle. Besides, as you two realized as well, we got more powerful the closer we came to it. Well, three of us found each other first out here, yours truly being one of them, and decided, why not? If those villages back there didn't want us, we'd set up our own. Exclusively gifted members only. We started out as one shaky little group, then more and more kids started arriving, with more and more villages getting paranoid. Eventually, we had such a crowd, that the main three of us split up. Lex occasionally still comes by and forms us a new cave and destroys the old one for all of us. We're not going to let that castle get too far ahead of us, after all."

"Has anyone actually tried going in to the actual castle though?" Axel hazarded, watching Xigbar carefully. "It can't be that far off, right?"

Xigbar chuckled. "As if. Kid, we're practically on its doorstep."

"Really. What, is it invisible some of the time or something like that? It wasn't visible to our eyes when we looked for it just outside this cave."

"This castle isn't just flying along just barely above the ground. Whatever you were thinking. No one here's seen the actual thing to be honest. We've just seen the stairs."

"Stairs?" Demyx and Axel echoed at the same time.

"They're floating along just south of here. You can't really miss them once you get further along. Why do you two ask, I wonder."

Despite a sharp dig in the ribs from Axel's elbow, Demyx answered quite honestly, "We're going to try to enter."

Xigbar whistled. "Y'know, I would have guessed that from the questions you've been asking, but I wouldn't think anyone in their right mind would actually do it. Axel, stop bruising your friend. If I intend you harm, well, the damage's already been done. Plus you're surrounded by my gang of kids already. I'm going to take it neither of you know this then, else you've got death wishes. The only people who've ever entered that thing? People she sent there, banished really. She's got her spies in the city, rooting out any people that might cause problems. Problems, heh. Not like we can do much against her, even with our powers. Do you know there are tales I've heard from men who I'd trust my back to, who swear that they've seen some of our kind try to go up against her. In court, no less. None of them succeeded. Nothing they could come up with could touch her. It was like she just sucked all the power out of their attacks. And she sends anyone who annoys her to this thing. I'm willing to bet some she sends just out of the blue when she's bored even. For entertainment."

"And you let them go? You didn't offer them an alternative. I'm guessing you must have seen them; you spotted Demyx and me right off, didn't you?"

"Hey. This club's exclusive. We don't go around inviting anyone in, even if they have been tossed out on their asses by her royal majesty. Yes, I've watched people walk up and stand dumbstruck before the first step of that winding staircase. Gods knows where it leads up to. I don't know how many people I've seen eventually square their shoulders and begin climbing up. I don't know if any of them have even made it to the top. The climb looks pretty damn treacherous. But think about it. Why would she send people she considers her enemies, even if they are pretty pathetic ones who pose little threats, to somewhere they could thrive and live happily? You know what royals do to their enemies usually. Throw them into their lightless dungeons, that's what. This castle can't be good, whatever's inside it. And you two are thinking of going there? You get banished as well; you didn't mention that."

"We probably would've been if they had been able to get us far enough to get pronounced judgment upon." Axel smirked faintly at the memory.

"Sounds like there's quite a story there."

"There is. Long story short, sorry, Dem, I know you'd love to tell it, part of the city's up in flames. Well, not anymore most likely. But I think the queen wouldn't have been any too pleased with me for that. And by default, Demyx, innocent though he is, damned because of the company he's chosen to keep for some reason."

Xigbar raised an eyebrow. "Nice going, dude. But then why in the world would you want to go after this castle thing? You know, I haven't said it out right yet, but you had to have guessed. You're more than welcome to a place around here. If I get on your nerves too much, there's always Saïx's gang or Lex's to crash with. Well. Probably not Saïx. Co-founder though he may be, that man has a serious stick rotting up his ass. But come on, think about it. We could use talents like yours, and life's not too taxing living like this. I'll give you the grand tour, if you want."

It took Axel a few moments to realize Demyx was looking at him, waiting for his response. But why… Of course. Shit. He had not thought about it until now but now that the thought occurred to him, so did the temptation that came along. Wasn't it his voice that had said…so long ago… Why should he bother going on this quest, continuing it of all things now? He'd started it, sure, but only because there was nowhere else to go. The village that he had sponged off on, yes, he freely admitted that, for fifteen years was no longer an option. Really, wasn't all that he was looking for? A new place to call home for another decade or so before moving on yet again when he grew out of that place? And what better place to hole up than here? Hell, he could probably survive here for scores instead of decades as planned. According to this guy, they had managed fine by themselves for—

"How long've you been out here for?"

Xigbar actually laughed. "Hell, if I rememb—hey, Terra! Do you remember how long it's been since I found ya?"

"Almost seven, Xigbar," came the voice out of the shadowy crowd.

"Seven… we'll round it off at about ten that I've been out here with Lex and wolf man then."

Ten years… And he wasn't about to ask, but it didn't look like they were running low on supplies or having to tighten their belts yet. And on the plus side, all these people here had been kicked out, just as he had been, hadn't they? They understood the contempt he felt, the disdain for people who turned on their fellow man at the first sign of trouble they sighted. And if it was his gift waning that he cared about… Well, hadn't Xigbar himself said that they followed in the castle's shadow, moving every once in a while to keep up with it? This was probably as far as his power could escalate, no sense in trying to push it to its limits.

"Sorry, Xigbar. I don't know about Dem here, but I have to keep moving."

"…I would ask why, but something tells me you're not chatty about this. That's your own business, kid. Well, speed and luck to you then. We won't judge if you change your mind and pop back in, just so you know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Axel tossed off a lazy two-fingered salute. Xigbar nodded, smirked, and turned to Demyx. "Water boy? I don't suppose I could convince you to stay. That was some stunt you pulled there with our water supply. We could use a man of your talents."

Demyx smiled and shook his head. No. He was not swayed.

"Damn." Xigbar sighed. "Until we meet again then. If we meet again, but, hey, no need for lack of wishful thinking. You're not staying even one night? I could take you boys around, see how we live around here…"

"Tempting, but no. Sorry. We're kind of in a rush."

"Alright, I won't ask. You two will be wanting out then. Nah, don't brace yourselves yet. I spin you around here, you two would be landing on your skulls and cracking them open with no one down there to catch you. Come on."

"Hey Xigbar," Demyx suddenly asked as they were walking towards the entrance of the cave. He had been astonishingly silent this whole time, even accounting for the fact that he had stayed quiet to let Axel make up his own mind that crucial period.

"Yes?"

"What kind of people have you seen going up the stairs?

"What _kind_ of people? You mean, do I remember some of them? Sure. There haven't been so many that I've forgotten. I'm not senile yet."

In a flash, Axel realized why Demyx was asking this and what his mind had been on this whole time. Oh, Demyx.

"Do you remember what some of them looked like?"

"Kid, this innocent act isn't working. Not with me. You've got someone on your mind, someone specific that you're thinking of. Come on; spit it out."

Demyx looked away. "Slate hair. He has slate colored hair. And it always covers the right half of his face. I was always after him about why he didn't get it cut. I mean, he loved…loves reading, and that thick mop of bangs can't have helped his sight much. And if I know him, he would have been dressed completely in black."

"Short, about yea high, blue eyes?" Xigbar chuckled at Demyx's look of shock. "Hey, I got kids that can get in real close and personal without your knowing." His expression turned serious again. "Yes, I saw him. Obviously you know him. A friend of yours?"

"Yes."

"Sorry, kid. I saw him walk up those steps, walk higher until the clouds cut him off from view. I didn't see him come down ever. Like the rest of them."

"When was this?" Demyx whispered.

"Now that's harder to remember. At a guess, a year. No, two years ago, it was. Right in the peak of autumn, right before Wade came along. I don't know. For your sake, I hope he's alive and thriving. Dread tells me otherwise though, Demyx."

"I know. But you don't know Zexion like I do." Demyx drew in a breath and laughed shakily. "He could deliver sharp blows with books of all things. Can. I'm sure he's been handling himself fine."

"If you say so. Alright, step out. I know it looks intimidating, the sky usually does when it's below your feet. I won't let you two blow away though. I'm not that kinda guy."

Axel looked out. The sky lay directly below. The dizziness that had gradually faded away in the cave, when the ceiling was hardly distinguishable from the floor and only memory had reminded him of which was up, here, the sky, the grass… In the exact opposite positions of where they ought to be. Axel closed his eyes and tried not to think about it, willing his stomach to stop reeling.

"The ceiling's low here so it's a lot closer to the ground. Doesn't mean there won't be a drop still though, so get ready to drop, duck, and roll. Whenever you're ready."

"Yes, sure, anytime." Axel had his eyes squeezed still tightly shut. He heard Xigbar chuckle. "Ok, dudes. No blaming me if you knock yourself on your head."

The world turned…

Axel blindly felt for the ground above his head and felt his fingers slam against dirt a second before…well, before the rest of his body would. _The ground is down_. _You're falling down, not up_. He oriented himself right before managing to land on his knees and not his back, flailing like a helpless tortoise would have.

Even though he knew it was probably a bad idea, Axel raised his head and looked blearily up at the sky. "Hey, Xigbar. What would have happened if we had kept falling towards that?" He nodded at the clouded sky and quickly stopped.

"Hey, if I knew, I don't think I'd be here talking to you, kid. Floated beyond the reach of this world into the nothingness that lies outside, I suppose. I don't care to try it. Eh. Not true. I do too care to try it. The insatiable curiosity of an old man, you know? I'm just not quite so reckless with my own life yet." His smirk was…interesting upside down. "Note the 'yet'. I'll probably try it when I'm old and crotchety and on the verge of kicking the bucket anyways. Go out with a bang, in a way. But until then… Why? You want to be the first to find out? I don't form attachments to people so quickly; I'm perfectly fine if you'd like to try…"

Axel flicked him off. "Go find some other guinea pig, old man. I've got better things to do with my life yet."

"Suit yourself. You did ask. Like I said, safe trip wherever you're going. Still think you're nuts, but whatever. Really. Going up there is no less reckless than seeing what lies on the other side of the sky."

"That will keep me up thinking at night, I'm sure." Axel stood and shifted his pack into a more comfortable position. "You ready, Dem?"

"How kind of you to ask." Demyx looked no worse for wear from their brief entanglement with gravity or deformation thereof. He too rolled his shoulders until his belongings settled, brushing the small of his back. "Yes. Whenever you are."

"Toodles, Xigbar. Don't wait up."

"As if." As they turned, Xigbar's voice continued from behind them. "Oh, and a little tip for the two of you. See any more caves around here or feel any strange sources of fire or water? Don't go wandering towards them casually. Those two co-founders I mentioned? Lex is real friendly, not very chatty, but the worst he'd do is not talk at you. Or maybe throw a few rocks at you, but that's only if you touch one of his precious ones. Saïx on the other hand. Woo. You steer clear of him unless you want him to rip you a new one. He's…shall we just say, a few straws short of a bushel? He doesn't handle rejections well, to put it nicely."

"Thanks for the warning."

"I'm serious. Don't be flippant about this; that guy…you know werewolves? Lycanthropes? Guess what his gift is? Don't say it aloud; just think about it." His voice began fading as his footsteps began taking him away, across the ceiling of the cave. "Take care…"

Axel and Demyx did not turn around, but kept their gazes carefully neutral until they judged they were sufficiently far away. "Think we should take his advice?"

"Yes."

They walked.

"I never did think about stairs leading up to this thing. It makes sense in retrospect, I mean, this thing's how high in the air, you'd need some way of getting up besides levitation or teleportation. …is it going to be as weird for you as it is for me when we finally arrive there and actually see the castle? It's…up till now, it's been a thing of my imagination really. I've never thought about it as a real thing in this world, never tried to picture how it would look. Just…now, now that the old guy's actually put part of the image into my head…it's like a bucket of cold water. This is actually happening; it's not just some distant destination in my head that's never actually going to arrive."

Nervous chatter.

They did pass two more rocky humps rising from the grassy turf below them as they walked. There were what looked like claw marks marring the outer wall of the first of the two. They looked rather…violently made. Axel and Demyx looked at each other, said nothing, and quickly moved on.

And a few scatterings of twisting, gnarled branches began appearing sporadically around them the further they went. Sparsely, at first. Then whole mini forests of them began appearing around them. Not impeding their path, you understand. Just…strangely marking out a path for them, rather.

"Huh. Well, old Xigbar was right about that being how you enter the castle. I suppose, it works as an exit route too, not that anyone's ever heard of anyone leaving before." Axel stared. The staircase wound awfully high. If he squinted, he could just make out an irregular shape far above the ground. That could be it. Or maybe his mind was deluding him into seeing shapes that were merely clouds in reality. Demyx blew out an audible breath from behind him into almost a whistle. "We'd better get started then. Nightfall shouldn't make the climb any easier."

"…we're really climbing this thing?"

"If we really want to enter this castle and not just sightsee…well, the little that we can see of it from down here. Neither of us have grown wings or bought a scroll that would grant us the ability of flight. Unless you did, without telling me."

"I wish." Axel kept staring and not moving. His stomach was quickly gaining a cold dead weight at the pit of it. "We could go back, you know. Not permanently! Just…long enough, far enough to buy one of those scrolls you mentioned, or a potion and then come back…"

"Axel, our legal status that allows us to buy from legitimate stores and vendors has severely decreased, I would think, since you set the city on fire. And remember? You were the one saying we were running out of time and we need to hurry."

"I know…but…" Axel groaned. Yes, the heavy pressure of a deadline, uncertain of its actual timing as he may be, still hung over him. But, good gods, that staircase stretched really high…

"Oh, Marly, look what we have here." Any voice out of the blue, especially here in the dead of nowhere, would have startled them both. But the tone and tenor of the voice added specifically to their shock. Concerns over the pending vertigo immediately forgotten, Axel grabbed hold of Demyx's sleeve and whipped around. Nothing. "Show yourselves," he snarled.

"Aw, the boy thinks he's in charge." As Axel watched, a sinuous shadow pushed away from those of the trees and sidled forward. Normally, he would have immediately let his face fall into a leer at the sight. Blonde, bright green eyes, curves to die for. But here in this wilderness? No. And definitely not, with the wide smile on the woman's face, baring sharp incisors, just on this side of not completely right in the head. The blood shooting through what would have been gorgeous eyes also didn't help matters much concerning his opinion of her sanity. She staggered forward, and Axel's eyes finally left their horrified scrutiny of her face and traveled downwards. Not that kind of downwards, silly. He noted the tense clenching and unclenching of her fists, pointed fingernails digging heavily into her palm, the ragged edges of her black dress. She glared at him, suddenly uncertain voice completely at odds with the vehemence in her expression. "Marly? Babe, you're still with me?"

"Right here, Larxene," came the purring answer. Axel stared again and this time, he had to stifle a bubble of laughter that threatened to pop within his throat. The man's hair was honest-to-the-gods _pink_. That fact, coupled with the name Axel now associated him with, (had his mother really named him _Marly_? Poor bastard, if it were so.) caused Axel to not consider him very seriously. A mistake that could have been fatal.

The laughter died in Axel's throat before it could begin when the man did not step out completely from amidst the trees; he was _carried out_. Thick vines unraveled from the gnarled trunks of the woods and the man _rode_ them out, buoyed gently until he was by Larxene's side. He brushed her cheek tenderly. "I'm right here, darling." She smiled at him, and then, eerily, in synchronized motion, they turned and fixed their eyes upon the other two. Axel was fairly certain Demyx squeaked from slightly behind him. And he had to admit, their smiles were not comforting.

The man, for Axel refused to refer to him as "Marly", frowned. "You. Both of you. You're holding my seedlings within you."

Axel choked. "Um, aside from the fact that that statement sounds all kinds of wrong…" His strangled mixture of laughter and indignation turned into a different sort of choking when the man, still scowling, raised a hand, and Axel's eye began tearing itself out his face. Or, that was what it felt like at least. He heard Demyx scream, and it was singularly the most chilling sound he had ever heard thus far. He would have helped, would have tried to help, but he could do nothing against the searing pain ripping its way down the bundles of nerves connecting eyeball to brain. Dimly, in some objective portion of his brain, he reasoned that if the pain was this horrible for him, how bad must it be for Demyx who had been poisoned in both eyes? Because that's what was coming back to chomp them in their respective asses, wasn't it? It had to be, those damnable flowers and then this man who had ridden in on fucking plants, of all things. And his seedlings that were apparently still inside them…

Flakes of the most god awful friction scraped against the soft skin of his eye socket roughly as they spurted from his eye. Axel dared to look with the one eye that was not streaming bloody tears and nearly shrieked in disgust and terror when he saw it was no longer a seed. And he'd thought it was pollen all this time! He would have preferred _pollen_! Pollen did not sprout twisted tendrils of green from its open shell _that were growing before his very eyes_. The man caught the sapling in his open palm, brought it to his pale lips, and _kissed_ it. Axel shuddered and then turned in a flash when Demyx screamed again, a raw hoarse cry of the most horrific agony. He stared in shock and could not look away, even as his mind went blank with _oh god no this is not happening that's what was in my eye?_ Spirals of green were wriggling, gods, wriggling their way from underneath Demyx's tightly shut eyelids. As Axel watched, horrified, one finally dug its way out all the way and shot straight past Axel towards the pink-haired man. More followed and Demyx's screams reached shattering levels. Axel dashed forward and caught Demyx before the bard's arms gave out and sent him toppling forward onto his face. "Demyx! Hang in there, come on. You'll be alright, I promise. It'll stop—stop it! JUST STOP IT, WHOEVER YOU ARE!"

He did stop, but only when the last traces of green squirmed their way out, carrying blood and tears upon their fragile stems and shot forward. In sheer disgust and rage, Axel caught one in his fist as it neared his face and squeezed. Clear liquid spurted from the ruined sapling and he flung it away from him, wiping his hand clean on his shirt. He looked up again and found the man staring at him in horror and—was he…he _was_ shaking, with unrestrained growing fury. "You dared… MURDERER!"

Axel knew when a fight was in the immediacy of arrival. He wasted no time in calling out to the hot hungry temperature within the duo's bodies. They came eagerly at the sound of his wordless beckon and Axel smiled with grim satisfaction when both Larxene and her companion froze for a moment, an involuntary shudder shaking their bodies. The heat was invisible, flowing through the air, and he made it visible, gathered the mass that he knew was there and coaxing it into tight little sparks, smaller than the sizes of ants. "Let's see how your precious plants fare now," he called out viciously and stirred the sparks awake.

The pink haired man's howl of rage was lost in the louder roar as the fire burst into being. A high-pitched "Marluxia!" could be heard over the sound of hungry flames though. Ah. Well, now he had a name to go with the face. Lovely.

Their fuel was wet and hissed on contact and they didn't particularly like that much. But they knew that the longer they fanned their food, the dryer and more delicious it became, so a feast awaited them at the end, they knew. In the meantime, they would eat the scraps and cook their meal at the same time.

"Go, my pretties," Axel whispered under his breath. "Burn those blasted plants alive. Drink your fill of their sap, devour their desiccated bodies and leave only ashy remains. Do it for me, I ask of you, come on." The fine hairs on his head stood on end when a bolt of brilliant white grazed his face. He halted, tremors of brief pain jolting through his nerves momentarily before he shook it off. "Lightning, huh? Wait…" He looked carefully at Larxene, whose bright yellow hair was now streaming every which way, as if every strand was straining for the static in the air. She was laughing wildly, eyes feverishly bright and gleeful. Where had he heard something about lightning…? "You!" He yelled over the sounds of hysterics, fire, and rage. "You're from that village, aren't you? They spoke of you, a lightning wielder! You left, didn't you? That's why they resorted to human sacrifices? What were you doing, holding their storms back from them in exchange for a mate in bed every night?" Crude, and he did not actually believe that that had been the case, but, hey, he needed to get her riled up somehow. It worked beautifully.

The pink lips formed a small "o" as the smile fell from her face. She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide as if she could not believe she had heard correctly. Axel, without taking his eyes off her face, called, "Demyx. A little help?" He heard no vocal answer, which he took as a good sign when he did hear the sound of a brief shuffle.

"YOU BASTARD!" she screeched, and lightning really began to fly. Axel winced and threw himself to the ground, feeling the ends of his hair singe. "Demyx!"

From behind, he heard a faint whisper, "I am so sorry for this," before the plants exploded. Watery sap flew in arcs that glittered briefly before soaking into clothing and on skin. Marluxia screamed. He and his plants had been keeping well back out of the range of the sparks everywhere in the air, but the water _within_ the plants could not have hidden from Demyx unless through distance alone. As it was, he stared, horrified at the ragged remains of his precious plants, even as they sank lifelessly to the ground. Then the lightning curved through the air and found the water covering his body.

Axel looked away. Larxene's and Marluxia's simultaneous screams were more than enough to tell him what had happened, and he, contrary to readers' belief, did not wish to watch what could possibly be the electrical demise of a man. "MARLUXIA!" The tangible static in the air faded and Axel cracked an eye open in the right direction to find Larxene running, tripping her way to the visibly singed prone form. "Marly, Marly, I didn't mean it, baby; I didn't see you there. Remember? You're going to get the eastern half? Don't just lie there, you prick! Get up, we have to get rid of…anyone standing in our way, remember? I'll give you a quarter more… Marly? Marluxia?" She slapped him a few times, stared, hiccupped. "There we go. You'll be…you'll be good as new. In time to be crowned king. We just…" Larxene shook the reddened form violently. "Tell your plants to kill them, Marly? What're you waiting around for?" Her voice was slurred. Behind her, the fire blazed down. Axel pleaded and cajoled until the last spark winked out from amidst the dry grass. "Demyx, is he?"

"I don't—" Demyx's hand shot towards his mouth and he retched.

"WAKE UP, YOU LAZY BITCH!" Larxene screamed in the man's unresponsive face. In a sudden flash of light, electricity flew around her. Marluxia's limbs flung themselves out jerkily in what would have been a comical fashion, had he not been…you know. The blonde stared down at her companion's face. "Wait. I know this. I know how to…Marly, we'll get you up in no time, you hear?"

"Demyx, let's go." Axel tugged on Demyx's sleeve as the musician finally straightened again, face much paler, hand coming up to wipe at his mouth. Demyx nodded, carefully not looking over at the scene. "He's alive, you know. I can feel the blood moving through his veins still."

"Well, then, we're still not hanging around, are we? Probably gives us even less of a reason to do so." Axel leading, they clambered onto the first pale step.

Up till now, they had avoided speaking of the prince too much. Oh, they both wondered all right. Probably every soul in the kingdom old enough to hear and understand the rumors did. What manner of creature had the queen given birth to? The mother was already bad enough; to what limits could her offspring grow into habits more evil than hers? It was here, at the very doorstep of his residence, or prison, depending on which way you looked at it, and which stories you chose not to believe, that they could no longer deny it. Their minds had no other resorts to turn to now.

"Why do you think she locked him away? If the stories are true, and he really is this horrible sort of monster, you'd think she'd want to keep him around, right? Use him to further her reign of terror? Demyx?"

Demyx sighed irritably. "I lost count."

Axel stared at him in amazement. "Why in the blazes are…were, I suppose, you trying to count how many blessed stairs this thing has?"

"To render into verse sometime. Or perhaps just for the record. Anyway, to answer your question, I don't know. It depends on what you mean by monster, I guess. He needn't be monstrous to look at necessarily. You've seen the queen's likeness, haven't you?"

"Yes." It was true; she was _very_ beautiful. Hard to believe that such a face held such cold malice behind it. Then again, he'd only seen paintings of her in her childhood; faces change.

"When they refer to him as a monster, they—"

"Who is this generic 'they', Demyx?" Axel smirked at him. "You're hedging. What do _you_, oh, learned bard, think?"

"I think rumors created when the person whom they concern is merely a _baby_ hold very little merit." Demyx was quiet. "I don't really care how human or inhuman the prince may be; he still has a choice of right or wrong to make, just like the rest of us."

"That's assuming he knows what right and wrong are in the first place."

"…Axel, I have a question, if I may ask."

"I won't bite your head off immediately if that's why you're asking."

"…have you felt him at all after that one time? When we left Aerith's cottage. You said you and Aerith had talked and—"

"I know what you're talking about, Dem." Axel's face had undergone a complete transformation into brooding. "No, I haven't. Really, that's…kind of what worries me. I don't know if he's just gone or if he's still here, just more subtle than ever. I'd like to think that he means no harm, but…appearances can be deceiving especially with sorcery in play as it is here." He didn't bother trying to put into words the extra undercurrent of emotion lacing his concerns. Somewhere along the line, he had begun to enjoy the unexpected visits. There was something companionable about this person, whatever he may be, and, yes, Axel knew full well that he could be delusional from all sorts of magic, enchantments that could be affecting his mind for it to think that way. But it had never intruded, so far as he could tell, had been a quiet presence, sitting there, swinging its legs, only occasionally interjecting a comment of his own. And not in words he could actively understand, mind you, always more in the sense of…packages of thoughts. Ideas, emotions, images, results of all the senses, all bundled into a tight package of expression. In that undercurrent that he never put into a conscious thought, much less so that he could explain to Demyx, he missed the presence of that other being in his head.

"But why was he making his presence known around you and Aerith in the first place? Wait, don't answer that; I can create possible reasons. I just don't know which one, if any, is correct." Demyx looked up. Thin mists of white swirled above their head, but, blurrily, through them, they could see a white structure of sharp angles rising into the heavens. "…must be lonely up there."

Axel barked out a laugh. "Is that the reason you've settled on? Really, Demyx. If he were lonely, he could've chosen a better mental companion than me, I assure you. Aerith, sure. Me? No for anyone in their right mind."

"No offense meant towards your sense of self worth, but are you sure then that this…he's in his right mind?"

Axel hesitated. No, he could not say for sure. Some of the thoughts he had received, that had come across more or less intact, he had not understood. That didn't mean anything really, certainly not definite proof that their creator was insane. "Does it matter, Dem? He's as sane as I am, I'll give you that."

As expected, Demyx took the opening. He rolled his eyes. "That really doesn't confirm or deny anything, Axel."

"I'm rubbing off on you, aren't I?" Axel grinned at him impishly. "You're getting better at those."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Demyx was a very bad liar, just for the record. Honest to a fault, that bard. Then again, as long as he didn't know what he was saying was a falsehood, he came in very handy in convincing people that needed to be convinced that they were trustworthy. Something about Demyx just screamed innocence and truthfulness. At the current moment, a pink flush was slowly spreading its way across the bridge of his nose. "Come off it, Dem. It's ok; even I'll admit it. I've been perhaps less of a good influence on you than I should have been. Should have, but not could have. Devilishness is in my nature; what can I say? But alas, the damage has been done; I have tainted your former pure innocence—"

"Axel, shut up."

"Is this thing swaying?" Axel stared down at his feet and the platform they rested on. The adrenaline had finally caught up with him, he was feeling the height, or the damn staircase really was moving back and forth with a barely perceptible sway.

Demyx looked down, then up. "It wouldn't surprise me if it were. We _are_ up pretty high." Axel followed his glances and immediately regretted it. Only little bits of ground could he see now through the…those were clouds, weren't they. And even those few glimpses revealed just how high up they were. He gulped. He had forgotten up until this moment from the adrenaline of the battle and all that, but now his bad head for heights returned to haunt him. Especially heights that were moving and posed the threat of throwing them off balance and falling to their gory, shattering deaths far below. "Yes, well, I'm shutting up now; you get your wish."

"…Will you be all right, Axel?"

Axel snorted. "It doesn't matter. There's no other way to get up to that floating annoyance, is there? And heaven forbid I let you up there alone with no one to save your sorry ass from whatever dangers you might encounter."

"I'm touched, Axel." Demyx's tone was light, but as he took the next careful step, his eyes were worriedly tracking Axel's own movements. Axel saw. "Honestly, Dem, I'm not going to slip off the edge the moment you take your eyes off me."

"Allow me my idiosyncrasies, would you?" Demyx was still watching. "It reassures me, stupid as it may sound or be." Axel rolled his eyes, but said nothing more on the subject. "What happens if we can't get in?"

"What do you—"

"It's a castle," Axel waved vaguely and tried not to think about the definitely, obviously moving stairs. "I'm going to assume the front door won't be open just for anyone to enter. The draft would be terrible, for one. What if no one opens the door?"

"That would be a terrible ending to this chapter of ours adventures then. It would make for the most anticlimactic ending of a story ever. 'And as our courageous heroes ascended the last stair of the treacherous climb upwards, they realized with dawning horror that the door before them was locked and showed no signs of opening. Summoning all their strength, they knocked at first with their fists in short, hard raps. Before long, they had resorted to full body slamming the door that did not give under their combined weight but merely echoed hollowly within. They continued this affair until, at last, their bodies bruised and aching, they collapsed on the doorstep, and sat there, weighing their options. Finally, ashamedly but seeing no other choice, they unhappily made their way back down.'"

Axel had stayed uncharacteristically quiet throughout all this, never once interrupting. Upon Demyx's hurried conclusion, he clapped slowly, and not without a touch of sarcasm, but for the most part genuinely. "My, I take back everything I've ever said about your storytelling abilities. A most tragic and tear inducing story. Pity about the subject matter."

"You try to come up with a different ending then." Demyx snarked.

Axel laughed. "Say what you will, I like my stories ending on a positive note. The few stories that I ever waste time in composing, that is." They traded mock glares. "Let's see. The door would be open, and there would be mindless elementals there upon our entry, ready to service our every need. A feast, hot baths, soft beds. The prince would turn out to be a misunderstood young'un. We would rescue this young fellow from his prison and he would ascend his rightful throne in the city, once we made it back there with nothing to hinder us on our way back. The queen would be banished to a land far far away from which she would never return, and everyone in the kingdom would live in harmony and peace for once."

A little note of _something_ crept into his voice as he continued spinning this tale, almost unconsciously now. "Our heroes would get their happily ever afters, the bard would find his _best friend_, as they are calling it nowadays, and they would settle down on a rich plot of land that sprang up with crops at the crook of a finger. They would never need to toil nor till, and the bard would sit on his ass all day for many years, composing songs that maybe a handful of people would hear, but they would actually enjoy his compositions, that small group. They would survive on the fruit of the land that the bard could coax up easily with his music and the money that his friend brought in with his sparse, complex research writings that he sent to major cities throughout the land periodically. And the other adventurer, this wandering rogue who had survived thus far on odd jobs, mostly to do with taming fire? He continues this lifestyle very happily of course, and maybe a beau eventually joins him in his endless journey. Nothing would stay constant, no home, no allegiances, no familiar faces apart from each other. And they would all live happily ever after to their respective endings." He stopped. Axel had too much of a hold on himself to color, after many years of practice with his bluffing and perfecting his poker face, but he did pause for a long moment before turning abruptly away. Too abruptly for his eyes were again drawn over the edge of the stairs and down to the ground that was considerably farther away than it had been the last time he had dared to look. "Well. There you go," he shrugged while dragging his eyes away and taking a step away from the edge.

"That…" The look on Axel's face discouraged any praise. Ridicule he could take, had retorts already handy for them. Honest complimenting was beyond him. Demyx cleared his throat. "I would much prefer that to the ending I spun; that's certain."

"Well, obviously. I would call you a masochist if you hadn't."

They climbed in silence for long periods of time, more frequently as they trekked ever higher. The closer they came to the castle, the harder the climbing became. Demyx broke one of these lulls when he glanced down and stopped. He swayed in the wind, but still remained where he was. "Axel, look."

"Hm? What? Someone left a carved message saying that he or she was here?"

"Not quite." Once Axel looked, it became fairly obvious, the trail of green staining the white stairs. The wind had blown little streaks into the liquid long since dried, but a clear, wavering line marked a previous adventurer's path up the stairs. After more walking, the line eventually faded away as whatever had leaked eventually drained itself dry. "Well, who knows? Maybe there'll be an entire welcoming committee waiting for us at the top."

They walked.

The wind was strong up here and more than once the momentum of the swaying staircase coupled with the strong gale threatened to send them flying away to the ground far far below by now. The further they climbed, the harder it became to hang on. Yet as much as they wanted to give up the further they ascended, the more the irrational stubborn sense that giving up then would mean unspeakable shame that they had made it thus far and then shied away from the challenge.

So they continued struggling up the steps. Axel's lips were pressed firmly together in a set frown as he tightened his grip around Demyx's shoulders while the wind screamed in his ears. This was a situation he utterly despised for what he could do against the wind? It was not tangible enough to wound or set on fire; indeed, the fire would be turned against its creator without qualm. Yet it was still substantial enough to be able to harm them without fear of retribution.

His head was bent low, hair whipping every which way in sharp stings against his face. So it was that he felt first rather than saw that they had reached a point where there were no more steps to be had. Heedless of the strands of hair that would most likely stab into his eyes, Axel lifted his head and his startled eyes met the pristine white door rising above them. They had made it. They were alive. He had not expected that.

He raised a hand to knock, which, he supposed, was an extremely idiotic move. But he did it anyways, and the hollow sound echoing inside could be heard even with the howling wind and their position on the outside. In the same moment, two things happened. The door began creaking open and as Axel craned his neck to see, from next to his ear, Demyx gave a terrified scream. Axel whirled around and his fingers just barely grazed Demyx's sleeve as the other man was yanked by the cruel wind backwards. "DEMYX!"

He fell flat on his stomach, arm outstretched, knowing it was too late _oh gods Demyx_.

"Hurry! Pull him up!"

The voice was not familiar, but Axel obeyed in a daze. But what was there to pull up? Surely, Demyx would have been already blown away into the distance. Already his scream was inaudible and surely he must be hurtling towards the ground by now, towards a death that Axel could only pray be quick and painless. His fingers brushed skin and he started.

"Don't get up. You'll be blown off too."

Axel clutched the edge of the step and peered over the edge. Hanging desperately on, Demyx looked panicked. His fingers curled tightly around nothing, yet he was anchored to that very invisible spot, the wind tossing his body this way and that, but always his hand remained caught in that tight grip.

"Pull him up!"

Reaching out, Axel clasped a firm hand around Demyx's wrist and pulled. Beside him, he felt the sudden presence of a warm body that reached out a hand to tug on Demyx's other arm, and together they managed to drag Demyx over the edge.

"Please. It's not safe out here. Come inside."

Axel pushed Demyx in first, and glanced back with one hand on the door. The visible sky was dark and washed out, the wind almost visible as it reached for him, needing to claim a victim. He slammed the door in its face. Metaphorically. Then he turned and came face to face with…

Was this then the prince of the tales and legends? Barely more than a boy. And he looked human, nothing monstrous about him, except perhaps his large blue eyes, that stared politely back at him with an ethereal intensity to the color. The boy raised a hand and ran it nervously through his golden hair. "Greetings. I'm Roxas."


	7. A Lull

The castle was larger than it looked from the outside. Granted, it already looked roomy from the outside. But the interior held such high ceilings and open, echoing chambers in such quantities that it seemed impossible that the structure, any structure, could contain so much in one go. And everything seemed to be a vivid white, as blinding as a snow bank during the winter when the sunlight glanced off and reflected in dazzling particles that left the eye seeing dancing spots of colors for a while afterwards.

Roxas glowed more brightly than everything, the one myriad of colors besides they themselves. But then they…Axel at least felt that he did not belong there, a vague sense of being a trespasser in this immortal place. Roxas, strange as it seemed, belonged. He was polite, dazzling, innocently sweet, and all in all, nothing that either of them had expected if they were to be entirely honest.

But he was nervous, Demyx noted with some suspicion. Granted, if the legends were to be believed, he had probably not seen another human in quite a while, more than a decade even. Or had he? Surely, Demyx and Axel could not have been the only ones to have had the idea of going, as Axel so quaintly put it, "castle-chasing". There had been towns; there had been people whom they had met on their journey. Hell, in its drifting journey, the castle had to have passed over or very near these at some point. _Someone_ must have tried to ascend the stairs as well.

With the earnestness of that of a canine, Roxas was eager to please though. Repeatedly, he assured them that if there was anything they needed, they had only to ask and he would bring it if he were able to. Yet, even with this manner, which ought to have been disarming, an air of tension never seemed to leave the building. From the inside, the wind was inaudible ("An enchantment," Roxas murmured uncomfortably.); the only indication of their surroundings was the view through the high windows.

And often at times, Roxas was simply nowhere to be found. With suspicious swiftness, he would appear when needed, but the rest of the time, he just vanished. Demyx and Axel spent many hours, wandering the entirety of the castle and never had they found an indication of his room of residence. Axel had asked over supper one evening where the prince slept. That had been the only time Roxas's expression had darkened, not in anger, but upset. And strangely enough, Demyx found his fears calmed by that look. The look of melancholy that swept over the boy's face brought into the open that something was wrong with this place, and they weren't safe quite yet. It was as if the thin veil that had been drawn over the subject had been pierced. "I can't tell you," Roxas said softly.

"Why?" Axel immediately regretted pushing when Roxas looked up at him with those vivid blue eyes. The prince opened his mouth and said nothing. He swallowed. Still no words came. Demyx suddenly became aware of the extreme silence, marked by the abrupt lack of cutlery clinking or shuffling of movements. Everything held still, poised in hesitation. Roxas looked away. "I can't." He stood, and Demyx's eyes flew to the clenched hands, knuckles white and fist trembling in…anger? But there was no trace of rage in the troubled features. Frustration, that felt more on target. Roxas looked straight at him and Demyx had the sense that he _knew_ the very observation and accompanying thought that had flown through the bard's head. Then the blond turned away his face. "If you need anything, you have but only to ask," he said mechanically and his footsteps began fading away, echoing down the corridors.

"Why couldn't he just tell us?" Axel asked the tablecloth. Demyx just looked at him. He seemed to be doing that quite a lot these days, now that he thought about it. But this should hardly surprise him. They had moved from one world to the other, maybe not literally, but the mortal plane they were accustomed to walking was nothing like this structure of otherworldliness…and sorcery that they found themselves in now. Sorcery. That was it. "You haven't noticed? This entire place is just full of enchantment and sorcery, Axel. I wouldn't be at all surprised if magic has something to do with this whole entanglement of mystery and deceit about the—Roxas."

Axel's eyes flashed upwards and Demyx raised an eyebrow. Somewhere deep inside his mind, he had been expecting this sudden display of outrage and he surprised himself with his mild response to Axel's rapid change of expression from pensiveness to indignation. "Deceit? Fine, I concede, he could have lied to us and we wouldn't know. Yet on that same note, neither has he done anything to give us any reason to doubt him. There is no—"

"Axel, I meant deceit as in the general rumors and lack of reliable information surrounding this whole business," Demyx interrupted desperately before the redhead could _really_ get started in his tirade. Axel sank back, a glimpse of sheepish emotion quickly swept away by defensive pettiness. "I'm just _saying_."

"As am I." Demyx looked up at the ceiling. Arcane runes and strange, delicate carvings though there were, they held no answers to the questions he had. "We can't actually ask Roxas himself as it appears he is unable to answer them. …Though I think he wants to."

"You saw that too."

"Yes. Axel, have you realized how empty this castle is? The rooms we've explored so far are almost entirely void of books, scrolls, toys even. There have to be some parts that are hidden."

"We've never seen Roxas's room either. He could just be reading himself into glassy-eyedness in there, you know."

Demyx shrugged. "Maybe."

"I mean, you'd hardly expect people to keep references on the weird and the eerie just lying around for anyone to find, would you? Granted, not anyone could get in here period, but my point still stands. …in a way."

"I'm just wondering if the question could be broached carefully to him. Perhaps coached in such language that he would not be prevented from answering by…whatever this is."

"Funny, isn't it?" Axel grinned lazily, cynical humor restored. "The information we need to get the kid to talk…we have to get him to talk in order to receive it. In the future, someone may very well present a book on this paradox."

…The faintest sound of a brick crumbling into pieces, and then the pieces into ashy dust could be heard if the ear were strained.

"You're a bard. You've heard nothing, gathered no wayward information on the dispelling of magic?"

"Axel. Think about it. If there's any enchantment in this place, it was probably placed by Roxas or…even his mother. Do you think any folk ward or charm could have even the slightest chance of dispelling the work of such master sorcery? And…" Demyx waved a hand around them. "Haven't you felt it? This place reeks of otherworldliness. Of magic unheard of in the mortal realm. This castle might very well be halfway through the gateway between dimensions, for all that it feels _wrong_ here."

Roxas had offered them separate bedrooms, but after their journey here, they had refused. Funny how it was. They had barely known each other back in the village…so far away, so long ago. They had known of each other's existence, exchanged a few bantering comments. But then they had grown accustomed to watching out for the other's safety. If only for the need for companionship, safety in numbers after all, in the beginning. And then…perhaps something more. They stopped minding only being able to afford single rooms at the few inns they encountered, never needed to remind the other whose turn it was to take the floor. Somewhere along the line… Axel shook his head amusedly at himself. Had he really? He never would have thought it. Sometime through the terrors and danger, they had graduated from acquaintances…maybe to friends. A friend. He'd have never thought it of himself. Granted, extreme circumstances and all that; one had to eventually start welcoming the one constant face that stayed around for one's sanity's sake.

So with that speculation and history out of the way, they were returning to _their_ bedroom when Demyx stopped. "Axel, how many doors did we find along this wall before?"

Demyx was correct. A door had indeed emerged from nowhere since their last trek down that long corridor. Laughably enough, the similarities of the decorative features caused them to have only the knowledge that there was one extra door, and not which exact one said door happened to be. Thus they then commenced in losing much time of that day, opening all the doors and peering inside to confirm that, yes, they had seen this room before, move on to the next one further down. Guest room, another guest room, lavatory, empty room, darkness that they had not yet worked up courage for venturing into… Library. That had not been there before. Also, how convenient.

"Axel! Look at this!" Axel rolled his eyes as Demyx whispered excitedly the entire browsing way through. His jaw had already dropped at the doorway and apparently this was a bard's wet dream. Books containing enough history, which, according to Demyx, included _lost_ history that had frazzled historians and researchers for centuries before they gave up and left that time period blank, leaving poets and dreamers to attempt to fill in the missing portions in their speculations. And here it was, all neatly laid out in piles upon piles of books. Demyx looked as if he were in heaven.

"Need I leave you and these…lovely ladies alone then?"

Demyx stared at him blankly for several moments. "I see no—oh. Ha. Funny, Axel. Um, just don't burn any of them? Please?"

"Yes, yes. Are you going to spend days going through every single one of these or are you actually going to do as you said and look for material related to…this situation. This castle. Us."

Demyx appeared to not have heard him, nose already buried in a yellowing, crinkling mass of papers barely held together by what might have once been a binding of a book. Axel scanned his eyes heavenward again and idly began skimming titles. If the musician were so inclined to be unhelpful in this situation… And he had to admit, his interest was piqued by finding out more about this sorcery business.

He tilted a few books out and caught them as they fell, glancing over his shoulder to see if Demyx had noticed and was preparing to scold him on such vicious maltreatment. He had not. It was not light reading; that was for certain. Axel dove in eagerly and quickly broke the surface again, spluttering. The writing lay dry and adorned with many unnecessary clauses and no humor whatsoever, good gods, the authors must have had major sticks up their asses. Rapidly, Axel drifted from close reading to casual skimming, occasionally reading an entire sentence if an idle word piqued his interest enough. And then he hefted a big chunk of pages and turned to a random chapter. Who writes an introduction that says nothing about the topic the book proclaims to be about, for heaven's sake? Or so it seemed to Axel.

Closing it with a loud snap, Axel nearly tossed it over his shoulder carelessly before making himself place it more gently down on a table. Right. His life was now enlightened from the dark abyss that had been consuming it before. He now wielded such useful philosophy that speculated on how what was commonly called "sorcery" actually drew its power from solar and lunar energy. With such a weapon, he would cut down ignorance before him like—in case, you've not caught on yet, Axel was being completely sarcastic.

Some of the books he'd knocked down made for easier reading. But no more substantial. There was just as much speculation drawn from just as little facts. And even then, he didn't really know what were really "facts" and what were just bullshit the authors were spouting out of their own asses. Some made for rather interesting reading, though not really useful, seeing as he couldn't actually cast the spells described within. (Although he certainly would have liked to be able to summon a demon or melt the eyes of his enemies.) Funnily, it was Demyx who noticed the passage of time and had to half-drag Axel from the chair.


	8. Staring at the Light

He couldn't sleep. Something pounded against the inside of his skull like a blacksmith would on his anvil. Axel tossed and turned, and counted sheep, then wolves that leapt after the sheep. Something…his eyelids were heavy and he was tired as hell, but something refused to let him sleep. He glanced over and stole a little bit of heat from Demyx with a flick of his finger. With the newborn flame dancing in his hand, he grabbed a book at random and tried to read, but his eyes kept closing and the words did not sink comprehensibly into his brain. Finally, Axel just lay there, arms crossed, cursing sullenly in his head at no one in particular, just the fact that he had apparently developed a severe case of insomnia.

It must have been several hours later, or it felt like that at least. Something that had been holding him aloft snapped.

He fell. He dreamed, and he ran terrified in that dream. The edges of his mind's eye were tinged with dripping red, his vision blurred and twitching. He detached himself, no…was forced to detach himself, he didn't do it voluntarily, nor particularly reluctantly seeing as it came so suddenly. Just one moment, he was blinking, or would have been blinking, at the disturbing scenes, and the next, a firm shove sent him catapulting into darkness. He turned and looked in through his own eyes, which was the most extraordinary feeling, rest assured. Axel did not much enjoy the sensation. For the briefest moment, he caught a flash of blinding blue out of the corner of his eye and turned sharply. His vision did not shift and his head ached. Then all breath left his mental persona and he actually focused on what was unfolding before his eyes.

Roxas's blue eyes stared coolly through him even as he slowly lifted him aloft. Axel saw his vision shift, downwards, eyes fixed on the golden-haired sorcerer even as invisible force constricted around his throat. Roxas's hands did not tremble even once as he clenched them around air, and the pressure around Axel's neck tightened in simultaneous motion. So this was what dying felt like. Slow panic, slow darkness descending upon him. All of this before Roxas abruptly flung his fingers open and the world exploded in blood. His vision splattered and dripped before he caught a gleam of white. Several thin gleams of white, to be precise. Oh. Those were his ribs. Right. And then Roxas turned towards the bed.

No. Not Demyx. What did Demyx ever do to you?

He could not see very much from this angle. Some realistic portion of his mind reminded him that he probably had no eyes left with which to see with given that his ribs were now devoid of any flesh save for mush. Yes, yes, he exasperatedly waved it aside, his nonexistent eyes still fixed and unable to tear away from the—he could see Roxas from behind and the boy gestured. The bed exploded in a spray of thick red.

Roxas walked through the empty white corridors, footsteps tapping hollowly. He paused before the looming doors and they obediently squeaked inwards. Flashes of light spilled through the widening crack between them as they opened. Rain formed puddles on the doorstep and Roxas stepped amidst it, hair whipping in the wind, eyes an electrifying blue of unnatural lightning and runes. He did not walk down the staircase; he had no need to. The castle descended for him in an insanely swift storm and where it cast its shadow, roofs and walls burst into dark flame.

_You have to stop it_. _You don't want this. Poor Demyx, lying in bed, saturated with his own blood. Those caves full of your kind, thick smoke pouring out of their mouths, the people inside too late to even attempt to flee their prisons. Think of Aerith trapped in her cottage, skin blackening in fire, hair sizzling. And poor little Xion and her beau, so far away, unsuspecting of the doom coming their way until they're screaming in pain. And then it will be too late_. _Think of yourself, you selfish man; do you really want to die here without even the chance to fight back? You pathetic thing, get up._ Axel did. The floor was cold. _Open your hand, receive your weapon, and end this._ Axel opened his hand, grasped the hilt. It seemed to freeze to his hand in a numb melting of flesh and metal. He was still watching, fascinated, as he raised himself from the marble floor and silently pushed through the door. Behind him, Demyx's soft breathing cut off abruptly as he eased the door shut. His footsteps echoed in the darkness as he walked the halls, climbed the stairs.

He walked to the foot of the bed and something within that darkness shifted. Roxas lifted his head ever so slightly and watched. Axel's feet took him around the bed to the side and those blue eyes never left him as he did so. He raised the dagger, brought it swiftly down.

Axel. Are you going to let the story end this way?

Axel's eyes widened and he gasped. For a moment, he wrenched his gaze away from what he was allowed to see and saw… He saw the grim tightness of Roxas's mouth, lips trembling as he struggled. The shaking hands, the watery eyes. He saw his own hands, that he had barely recognized as that of his own until now, clenched around the notched hilt, that led to a twisting thin blade and beyond that, Roxas's rising and falling chest.

He couldn't stop. He wrenched his hands, fingernails digging into the fingers of the opposite appendage, but the point of the knife relentlessly drove downwards, even as he desperately tried to pull it back up. Axel tried to scream, but his lips refused to open beyond the slack gaping parting they had assumed. Fine. If this was where the knife wanted to go, so be it then. Axel gave up and let his hands arc downwards as he yanked it, not upwards this time, but sideways. The sharp blade sliced through his thigh like…well, like you would expect a deadly weapon to cut through flesh. Bright blue flashed in his field of vision as his lips finally gave way to a choked shriek. Dimly, he realized Roxas was gone from the bed and he felt hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly. And he heard words in a terrified string of incoherence. Before he pitched forward, he could have sworn the world was coming to an end. He was not imagining this clash of darkness and blue, a serrated edge was ripping the very air apart; he could see the threads, the fluttering ends lash out—

"Axel, please wake up. Axel, gods above, w-wake up." Oh. Really. Had he fainted like a stereotype again? This was annoying. He had a reputation to uphold, and this behavior helped it not in the least. He opened his eyes. Roxas jumped, hand flying to his chest and breath gasping in a sharp intake. The boy closed his eyes momentarily, mouth slack and pulling in great heaves of air. "You scared me. I thought you were dead."

"Roxas?" Axel tried to sit up and winced as pain flared through his upper leg. With that, everything came back to him. The dream, the knife. He looked up in horror. "Roxas, what did I do?"

He expected evasion, excuses, anger even. So when Roxas fixed him with shining eyes and tackled him in a flying embrace, he sat stock still, frozen in shock. "Thank you, oh gods, thank you. I knew you would do it; I knew you would be the one." Just as quickly, Roxas suddenly pulled back though. Fear crept into his eyes. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you? …I can explain now though, thanks to you."

It amused him in hindsight to recall his next words, that even in this moment of confusion and aftermath of nightly excitement, and now that he thought about it, lack of sleep, his first priority was to get Demyx in here so that Roxas wouldn't have to explain things twice and Demyx would not complain later about needing to hear it so he could "chronicle things".

"…we'd better get Demyx first. I really don't want to deal with his tantrum at missing out on all the excitement tomorrow. And this way, we save you a round of explanation."

Roxas nodded, eyes lidded, and carefully slid his arm under Axel's and together, they stumbled into a standing position.

"And, Roxas?"

"…yes?"

Axel looked up at the ceiling before awkwardly crooking his arm tightly around Roxas's shoulders for a few moments. "I'm extremely glad you're alright," he murmured softly.

Briefly, a flicker of emotions flashed through Roxas's eyes, too quickly for cataloguing. If the darkness had been a few shades less heavy-handed, Axel would have noticed the sudden healthy flush to Roxas's face, from forehead to chin. Thankfully, from Roxas's perspective, it and he did not. He said nothing, but his pale lips curved at the ends just slightly.

By the time they roused Demyx from his unusually heavy sleep with much grumbling and rough handling on both sides, and, of course, once Demyx saw all the blood caked on Axel's clothing, he insisted on making sure Axel was as patched up as possible and that everything was fine, so by then, things already seemed a distant memory. This changed once Roxas began speaking, his very words seeming to weave a spell that both Demyx and Axel were no longer hearing, but living the story, looking about them in wonder at the scenes flourishing into being.

This was the tale he told:

He remembered days of darkness, immobility, and silence. Foods of different tastes, though he did not know that they were tastes then, were sometimes pressed to his lips and he devoured greedily, without heed to manners or dignity. There were no such things after all in his world of nothingness. Only the endless blackness within his mind, unfilled by words or colors, and periodically an ache that alternated between begging to be filled or released.

When she fed him, he ate like a wild animal, not tasting, not smelling, only filling the roaring emptiness in his belly. When nature called in its various forms, he relieved himself, squirming away from the streams of warmth over his bare legs. Sometimes he felt others near him, felt sheets beneath him shift. Sometimes someone would lift him and place him in water and roughness would scrub away at his skin. All this he learned not in words, but in mere sensations.

Then one day, he fell into deeper darkness and when he woke, the whiteness hurt his eyes. There were colors, but he did not know what they were. There were walls, but he had never seen them before. He stayed still, if only because whenever he tried to stand, his atrophied muscles surrendered almost immediately and he would tumble to the floor. He knew pain and did not like it. He stayed in one place and did not know how to settle the growing ache in his stomach. It must have been only a few days later for Roxas doubted he could have survived for long without food and water that a garishly dressed shadow came to him. He made strange sounds and tried to touch Roxas, but Roxas whined in his throat and pulled away. Then the man seemed to come to a decision and picked Roxas up despite the boy's howls and weak, weak attempts at attacking, and took care of him.

There was water and food in the cupboards, no shortage of it in fact. And the storage never seemed to diminish in quantity. Ansem cleaned him and fed him, and repeated things over and over with strange sounds and movements of the mouth. He pointed at objects and called them different things. He guided Roxas's arms and legs in strange contortions until Roxas could stand shakily without toppling over.

For all of his early years that he was kept in isolation, Roxas found he was hungry for more than just food. He learned the sounds greedily and found he could clutch at the cold walls for support to shuffle around the castle on trembling legs. His mind grew fuller, his muscles stronger. Then one day, something came. It came up to the doorway and seeped in. It wrapped around him in a flurry of darkness, lifted his chin with cold tendrils as he stared at it. And then it vanished and he stumbled to the man-thing called Ansem. And Ansem told him not to worry, it was a mare of the night. Only a bad image from his mind. Except then the bad image became very worse, because Ansem opened the door of the room of his bed one night, looking very sleepy and not-there. And he stabbed Roxas and red water came out of his chest even as the pain exploded in the same area. Roxas gasped and watched the red water trickle to a stop before the skin sealed itself together. When he looked up, Ansem's face had not changed. It was hard for stone to shift, after all.

Roxas had felt emptiness in his stomach before, in his mind, and now the trio of pain was complete. Something higher within his chest began to hurt as he shook the statue as much as he was able to, poked it repeatedly until his fingers bruised and ached from being bent out of shape. He cried hot tears and didn't know why. In the end, he curled at the base of the stone figure and hugged himself quietly for a while. He only arose when his body began protesting in various ways for him to take care of it. Eventually, Roxas began the slow painful process of moving the statue out of his room into another. In hindsight, switching bedrooms would have been an easier solution, but some part of him had felt he needed to be punished for this. He managed to move the petrified figure of Ansem into another room without toppling the statue over somehow, and dared not look back as he locked the door behind him. Still, it was not easy getting to sleep each night.

And the nightmare returned again and again. People kept arriving at the castle and at first, they scared Roxas as badly as he startled them. Aqua had been gentle with him once she had calmed from the initial scare and approached the shaking figure in the corner. She had taught him more words and told him a little about the outside world. She had actually told him a lot; he just understood little at the time. Leon had been stern, but had showed him the outside for the first time. He saw the staircase, felt the rushing wind, and had crouched on the doorstep, staring in wonder. Tifa's eyes had widened in shock at seeing him. Apparently he looked exactly like a miniature version of a man named Cloud, whom she was looking for. She'd fed him, fussed over him like a mother. There were so many of them, some he had liked, some he had not: Vexen, Yuffie and Vincent, Luxord, Cid. And Zexion.

Demyx leapt from his seat before Axel yanked him back and clamped a firm hand over the struggling bard's mouth. "Do continue," he told an astonished Roxas, over Demyx's muffled protests.

Well… "She condemned me. Officially, I was banished to this castle, although I suspect she would not have minded if I had died on my way here." Zexion had looked at him with undisguised curiosity, eyes hooded even as he looked Roxas over. "I would say that you look nothing like her, and it would be true if not for your eyes. The queen's eyes were the same unearthly blue as yours."

"I see." Roxas had stumbled to his feet in a hurry, uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny and with the general topic. He had learned already, had the chance of learning many times over about his parentage. The subject of his mother, the sorceress, still made him shake. "Would you like anything?"

Zexion had still watched him unabashedly. "You're afraid of her. Why? There are many who fear her, but you seem to harbor a different fear than theirs…ours. Come to think of it, do you remember why you are here, if you knew it at any time?"

Roxas again opened his mouth even as he frustratedly knew that nothing would come of it, just as nothing had every other time had tried. He worked his throat, tried to say, "Because she wants me for something. Because she hasn't killed me. Because I'm fairly sure that she's done something to me, to this place, that every person who has ever entered will always end up trying to stab me. And instead, they will turn to stone and I don't know how to stop it." All that came out was an upset click of teeth. "…I can't say."

Zexion had been smart, he told a somewhat pacified Demyx, he had seemed to understand that she…Roxas's mother had done something to her son. He just hadn't known what. After that conversation, he had asked Roxas if there was a library, one of the few people who had. Roxas had led him silently through the hallways but when they reached the door, Zexion had asked him to enter and pulled down a book and pointed to each word as he read aloud. Sure, he hadn't been the most patient of men, easily exasperated by Roxas's slowness to learn, but he had tried. And Roxas owed him enormous gratitude for that.

"So where is he?" Demyx cried.

…with everyone else. For Zexion had been helpless to prevent the madness that overtook him one night and froze his flesh into stone as Roxas's new stab wound healed. But he had given Roxas a precious gift. With the knowledge of how to approach these strange things called "books", Roxas had grimly marched into the library the next morning and pored over the pages Zexion had left open. It was slow, hard work, especially with the fact that none of the books had been designed for easy reading. Eventually, he had managed to work out the basics. Whether deliberately or by accident, and Roxas believed it to be deliberate, Zexion had selected as Roxas's first book, one detailing the basics of the information known at the time about sorcery. In desperation and curiosity, Roxas tried to scry. And realized that the blood of his mother did indeed run in his veins to his great despair and joy. He saw a figure standing before a curtained bed, hair beautifully auburn and smooth. He saw her profile, her white skin, and a faint glimpse of unearthly blue eyes as she began to turn her head towards him—Roxas overturned the basin of water hurriedly. His breathing came fast and choppy.

He managed to turn his mind onto other matters the next time he attempted to scry again. He took a deep breath and wondered what would happen if he scried on Ansem. He shrieked and flung himself away from the water when blackness immediately poured forth from the basin as ink boiling and rising in a choking cloud of steam. The third time, third time lucky after all as Yuffie had been fond of repeating to an amused Vincent, he determined not to think of anything, instead letting his mind go blank as he stared into the clear water at his own reflection.

"And what did you see?"

For the first time, Roxas looked away and mumbled with a flush across his face that he did not _wish_ to say. Neither Axel nor Demyx pried. After a pause, Roxas continued.

After that third time confirmed for him that not all attempts at scrying ended as horribly as they did during his first two trials, he quietly watched throughout the lands. He watched unabashedly, that is, until he learned of such things as socially acceptable behavior and morality and the like, and then with pangs of unease. But guilt was not enough to overpower his urge to watch, and the sights that flew before his eyes did little to make up for the deprivation he had suffered for more than a decade. The colors, the places, the people. Roxas stared at them all in wonder. And dread. Because ever increasingly, he was growing more and more conscious of the inconsistency of matters. Why had his mother locked him away for most of his childhood, then away in this castle? Was it truly because she feared the possibility of his growing up to rival her in power? But if so, why not kill him while he still lay vulnerable as an infant? Did it have anything to do with his apparent condition? The fact that anyone who had attempted to stab him thus far had failed to actually kill him and had petrified his assailants in fact? But she was supposedly a powerful sorceress. Surely, if she had wanted to be rid of him, she would have been able to devise some means of doing so? Why wait…?

His mind lingered over these points continually.

Wait, wait, wait.

"So…let me guess. You were watching us, weren't you?" Axel was grinning like a maniac. Roxas stared at him hesitantly. "…yes?"

"And that was you that entered my dream when we were dying from those blasted flowers, wasn't it? Alright, yes, no need to answer." Axel grinned at him.

Roxas stared. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but I felt that the situation at the time—"

"Save it, Roxy. I'm not mad."

"…oh." A beat. "Well."

He had continued poring over books, as many as he could gather from the library shelves. Ancient scrolls of arcane spells had made their way onto his list as well. Roxas had learned, as much as he was able, counter curses, spells of dispelling; he memorized runes and diagrams, meditations and rituals; in fact, he learned everything that was possible to learn under the circumstances of a self-taught crash course in magic, and beyond. None of it did any good for the silent stony figures now beginning to experience the effects of overcrowding in that one bedroom.

Roxas eventually switched tactics and, while still trying the odd original idea that would occur to him in the dead of night on the poor statues, began searching his imagination and library for ways to break the enchantment on _him_. He worked under the assumption that he was indeed under an enchantment and not…naturally possessing such a characteristic. This limited his attempts somewhat as the amount of time between visitors gradually began stretching longer and longer. And none of his attempts worked. Always, he felt there was just something…he was almost there, balanced on the edge, and just a thin barrier prevented him from stepping over it. Roxas stopped.

"So what did do it?"

Well. Um. Axel and Demyx had caught his attention once they reached the swamps. He had watched with growing interest as they made their wandering way, first to the city, and then towards him. And…there was just something about h—them that was different. An aura, perhaps, although really such things were vague at best and useless, to be quite honest. But he had watched, and prayed, and occasionally intervened when circumstances deemed it necessary.

As for what happened last night…

Axel smirked at the wording. Oh, how many times had those words (more or less) left his mouth…

The edge happened. He would clarify as that sounded entirely too vague.

And clear up certain implications.

… As they could probably guess, the spell, and this was a crucial part in Roxas's convincing himself that it was a spell and thus breakable, prevented Roxas from speaking about the situation to any other person. And the spell not only turned to stone his direct assailant, but also apparently every living thing within a certain vicinity besides his own self as well, as he discovered sadly with Yuffie and Vincent. It also prevented him from acting during the critical nights when he would wake up and see the door slowly open and the shadow of a figure stumble unsteadily in. And when Axel's unmistakable silhouette had entered, Roxas had struggled to sit up, failed as expected, and offered up his most sincere prayers to the gods that _please, not them too_. And Axel had stabbed himself and for a split moment, he had seen it within his mind. The sudden stretched line of the magic, trembling with the intensity of being strained so tightly. Roxas seized it immediately, all the spells and tactics he had been saving up in his head for this very moment vanishing in the franticness; he had just flung every drop of raw power he could conjure up in his mind at the damnable thing. All the hate, fear, and rage he had ever felt because of this infernal—it had shattered at once and the aftermath had hit him like a shockwave. He reeled, and nearly lost himself into the howling void that was rapidly swallowing the remnants of the energy it had taken for the casting of the spell to occur in the first place.

Roxas pulled himself back with an effort.

"And now we're he—" Axel never did get to finish that sentence for Demyx burst in with rapid fire questions. It seemed to take the bard all the willpower he could muster to remain in his seat. "Yes, but what happened to the people? Are they alive, are they moving, are they returned to their previous states now? Where are they? Where's Zexion?" When Roxas did not immediately answer, Demyx nearly flung himself from his chair. "Oh gods, no. Please tell me he's alive; he can't be dead, he can't die." Tears brimmed. "He's _Zexion_," Demyx concluded weakly, as if this conveyed immortality upon the man. Roxas looked up and his lips parted slightly. He seemed fascinated by the sudden glimmer of wetness now beginning to trickle over onto Demyx's cheeks.

"Roxas? What happened to the people that were…affected by this spell before? Can they be turned back?" Axel asked, and his tone, to all who had ever met him in their lifetimes before, would have made every single one of them do a double-take and stare in astonishment. Was this _gentleness_ in his voice?

"I don't know," Roxas whispered. "I don't know what happened to them when the spell broke. I—I'm afraid to look."

"Then…tell me where they are and I'll check for you? I mean, Demyx over here's going to have a heart attack if someone doesn't find out soon."

Roxas placed a hand on the arm of his chair and gripped the wood tightly, knuckles and bone stretching the thin skin tightly. "No… I have to go too."

It made sense that they had to walk down several winding sets of stairs to get to this mysterious room. And, for Axel, it also made perfect sense when Roxas paused before a seemingly blank wall and brushed the palm of his hand over its surface to reveal a wave of color that quickly spread and turned from marble to wooden slats. The boy paused, with his hand curled around the heavy metal ring though. "Do you need me to—"

Roxas froze, face twisted with anxiety. He shuddered and nodded quickly, in a spasm. Before any of them could change his mind, Axel nudged Roxas aside and pulled. The door swung with a loud creak. He peered in.

We're the heroes of the story, right? We're supposed to get all happy endings, you know, happily ever afters, dying in each of our respective lovers' arms after sixty odd years with a smile on our wrinkled faces?

"Demyx, you might want to stay out."

Demyx's eyes went wide. "No—Zex-!" Axel slammed himself hard into the bard as the latter ran headlong into him in an attempt to reach the door. "Roxas, close the—unless you can do something about…?"

Roxas tilted his head and looked in. All the faces from his nightmares stared back, their petrified faces accusing and terrified. He closed his eyes and placed a hand on the door—"No. I mean—don't close the door yet." Roxas sucked in a breath and slid one foot across the doorway. There was something…granted, he had never lingered in this room. With every dreaded visitor that he had to move down here, he always did so, without looking and with his mind as focused on other things as possible. The latest spell he'd discovered and wanted to try, all the components he would need to accomplish it successfully. Now, he didn't know if this flicker had been there before. Something told him it hadn't been. It did not resemble the tenseness that had appeared in the main enchantment when Axel, gods bless him, had been stubborn enough to cause it to flicker unprepared.

This was a shimmering. Occasionally it paused for long periods of time before fading in and out rapidly again. The thing about it was, also, that it never quite stayed still. It always remained at the edge of Roxas's vision, though it wasn't really vision he was "seeing" this with. It did still cause him to make little turns of his heads in vain attempts to directly view the—impatiently, he, utterly distracted from the statues now, reached out and grabbed it. Except it wasn't tangible. Not really. That is…

A breathy sigh blew through the room, and they all looked up, Demyx and Axel halting in their struggling. They could all hear it as it echoed, and both their eyes were dragged downwards to see that only Roxas's hair and clothes stirred in the breeze. And then their eyes became fascinated by a more obviously astonishing matter.

In a wash of vibrant color, as the artist sweeps over the blank canvas with a rainbow of paint upon his brush, so it was with this breath of air. The colors raced across the grey unmoving bodies in a flurry of brightness. Demyx remembered how to breathe. He tottered forward, pushing away from Axel's now unresisting arms, stepped across the doorway. Roxas and some of the figures turned to look at him, but he only had eyes for one colored shadow, now clutching at the wall and looking up through slate bangs…

"Zex? Zexy?"

"Demyx?" Zexion stared, one visible eye clearly stunned. "How long…" His expression reformulated itself with an obvious effort as he pulled himself upright. "Demyx, how many times have I told you not to call—" Demyx tackled him in a flying hug and, after a stunned moment of silence, scattered laughter broke out and the spell was quite literally broken.

"Demyx—"

"What?" Demyx's answer came muffled, his face buried as it was in Zexion's collar. Even from where Axel was standing, amusedly observing by the doorway, the roll of eyes was obvious. Or rather…eye. Singular. "Dem…" He pushed at the bard, held him a back distance despite Demyx's pathetic whine. "You're weeping." His tone was a little bewildered.

"Um. It's been six years?"

"Six—" Zexion looked up, finally. His eyes passed over the veritable crowd, dwelt on Axel for perhaps a moment of confused scrutiny, but latched on to Roxas, who was shrinking back against the wall, attempting to melt into the background. Zexion stood, pulling Demyx up with him. As he approached, Roxas met his gaze and shrank back. In a beat, Axel finally entered the room and was behind Roxas, hands on his shoulders in a second.

As intimidating as Axel's glare was, Zexion appeared unaffected. He said quietly once he and Demyx were within clear earshot, "By my reckoning, it should have been four years. I appear then to have lost eight seasons, possibly less or more, from my life and doing so while unaware of the fact." He looked steadily at Roxas. "Was this your doing, Roxas? The last thing—" He stopped.

"What do you remember?" Roxas stood a little straighter, and Axel looked down in surprise when one of those small hands placed itself over his and just held it there. Zexion brushed a hand before his eyes. "…I see. Your mother's doing, was it not?" Roxas flinched. "Yes."

"My memory of those last days is indefinite. Did I…I attacked you that night… I remember… I remember wandering lost in a dream and watching my own body detachedly as from behind a glass. The knife—You are unhurt?"

Roxas's eyes hooded. "It's fine, Zexion. I have you to thank for…" He dropped to his knees unexpectedly. "You gave me the means of breaking this accursed enchantment. I owe you so much."

"So it was an enchantment… Rise, Roxas. I may have given you the beginnings of the ability to research, to study. But am I correct that after my…incapacitation as we shall call it for convenience—"

"Really. Convenience?" Axel muttered.

"—you were the one who developed this ability further and taught yourself the sorcery that was necessary to break this? Or was it an innate…either way, the gratitude lies with you from us. What did happen? I assume, obviously, that you are now able to speak of it since I now find myself conscious of time and its passing again."

"I…you…"

"You were turned to stone, Zexy."

Zexion's eyes did not leave Roxas, now looking a question. "The dagger…?"

"I don't think it was just the dagger, Zexion. The spell lay within the very rooms of this castle; it's gone now. But during those crucial moments, I think any kind of harm done to me would have…would have activated it."

"I—" The privacy that Zexion had, up till now, been very fortunate in having for his conversation with Roxas held no longer. A girlish shriek of "ROXAS!" and a blur of ninja princess speeding towards them caused a chain reaction. Those who had not noticed, shame on them, Roxas's presence until now were suddenly enlightened and choruses of "Roxas?" "What happened? Roxas is still here? Where are we?" "Who are you people?" began filling the room as a general mantra. Axel looked around, saw no faces bearing ill intent; instead they all seemed genuinely surprised and happily so in seeing the blond prince again. Huh. The sheer number though…

"I'll be all right, Axel. I…I need to talk to everyone for some time; is that okay?" Their fingertips just brushed as Roxas began slowly pulling away, his eyes finding Axel's.

"If you say so. Don't wear yourself out too much, little prince." Roxas nodded sweetly and…had there been a faint smile of exasperation on his face? The crowded room made way for him, a parting of the sea of people as Roxas disappeared amidst the greetings and questions. Some, realizing quickly that Roxas would not be able to speak to all of them at once, turned to the three left behind and began asking them in a flurry of questions. As Axel found his hands full of friendly strangers with two year gaps in their memories, he caught a last glimpse of Roxas unsteadily making his way to a white robed man towards the back of the room. The man's bearded face registered confusion, then broke into a blinding flash of recognition and relief, so poignant that Axel caught his breath. Then the crowd blocked his view from Roxas falling to his knees before the man, small hands caught in those of his elder, and Axel turned to his own interactions.


	9. A Minor Second

Demyx flung himself onto the bed, an uncharacteristic scowl slashing across his face. Axel watched him, eyebrows raised. He sat up, and carefully left his book open to the page he was on as he placed it beside him on the bed. "You look petulant."

"It's—nothing."

"Demyx, you're scowling like you're about ready to punch someone or something. This coming from you indicates it's a lot more than just nothing."

"I just need to think."

Axel knew him well enough to be able to guess what this statement precluded. Sure enough, Demyx reached, almost unconsciously even, for his precious instrument and slid the mezrabs over his fingers before plucking a tentative note. Axel listened, the waves of music washing over him; it was an uncertainly neutral tune, unsure of itself, but still beautiful in its embryonic form. Leaving Demyx some degree of privacy, Axel shook his head and picked up his book again, eyes searching for where he'd left off. He was tempted to ask Demyx where Roxas was, if he knew, or perhaps even wander through the hallways to see if the boy was anywhere near done with the sudden influx of visitors. For the former, he would have asked earlier but the path their conversation had taken had dictated otherwise. To interrupt now would offend his moral sensibilities. As to the latter…he needed to think as well. Something had changed about his feelings towards the younger male.

It was seeing the sorcery that had done it, yes. Up till then, he had guessed that Roxas was in possession of great amounts of magical power, but the concept and seeing its actual confirmation before his very eyes were different. His nerves were still on edge from last night (was it really only last night? It seemed so far away, and yet too close.) and then seeing Roxas a bit earlier, walking into the room and breaking the spell that had held the throng still without the slightest awareness of what he was doing. So naïve of the power he held, really. It unsettled Axel.

Axel looked up and returned Zexion's gaze with a questioning glance. The man leaned against the open doorway of their room, eyes returning to Demyx after acknowledging Axel's knowledge of his presence with a faint nod. Axel opened his mouth to call out the bard's name, then thought better of it. Let the two lovebirds deal with whatever tangle they had worked themselves into. This was not his mess; he washed his hands free of it.

Watching soon grew boring. Demyx's music was sweet, but after weeks of walking with nothing else to entertain him, Axel had come to accept it at a background level, not as a thing he could actively listen to. Zexion did not move, gave no audible indication that he was there, and Demyx's head stayed bowed and his eyes closed as his fingers flew over the sitar strings. Axel quickly tired of watching and once again began reading. The notes swelled and fluctuated.

In the middle of a strain, the music stopped. Axel sat up slowly. Demyx stared, not at him, but at Zexion, whose presence the bard had apparently just noticed. The tanned cheeks colored. "Hello, Zexion."

"…" Zexion paused. He swallowed. "I remember you playing back in the city." Demyx watched him, still with that curiously neutral expression on his face, though the blush did not fade from his cheeks either.

"There were little signs even when your playing was not audible, or I did not notice it aurally at least. Little ripples in the pond or fountain or cups. They were, of course, nothing compared to the figures you created downstairs wherever there was a water source." Zexion stopped again, took a breath. "It brought back memories and I realized that…I came just to listen."

"You did?" A note of unconcealed surprise and delight crept into Demyx's short question.

"I…yes, I did. And I wondered, if you aren't occupied with serious composing, that is, if…I've missed much, not just in the two or so years of my life that are permanently lost to me, but I know nothing of what you've been doing in the years we spent out of touch. I wondered…if you might not tell it to me. And perhaps play. I've m—I've not heard your songs for a while obviously."

Axel rolled his eyes good-naturedly and strolled out. He made no attempts to disguise his intentions in doing so, nor did he make it blatantly obvious why. But he did nudge Zexion inwards as he brushed by him in moving through the doorway and swing the door as closed as possible. There was a pause, then Zexion apparently moved into the room of his own accord for the door shut completely behind him.

"Ah, young love," Axel said to no one in particular. He could eavesdrop; sure, Demyx was his friend, he owed him that much, he shouldn't do it… He could do the honorable thing and give them their privacy. "Just best friends…you know the gods will strike you down for that blatant lie, Demyx." He could've walked away and he did so after a few seconds of crouching with his ear pressed against the cold door revealed that the material did not transmit sound well.

Technically, he could just wander down to the library, curl up with his book as he had been doing before Demyx had entered the room…but how could he concentrate, just sit there quietly with this newfound knowledge and the accompanying curiosity?

He could not. And that was why he was now restlessly squirming in a chair in the library instead of reading further into his study of sorcery that he really didn't need to be making any longer, really.

Restlessly, Axel stood and looked up and around. There were no windows in the library, but there were in the hallway. Still, it took some creative maneuvering to hoist himself up to the sill enough that he could clamber onto the little ledge and settle into a comfortable position. It was then that he looked outside, and really looked. "Oh…wow," was all he could say lamely.

"Different, right?"

Axel looked down. Roxas met his gaze and shifted from one foot to the other. Without a word, Axel leaned over, dangerously far, and offered a hand. Roxas stared at him, first at his extended limb as if it would throttle the life out of him, and then at Axel's face to confirm the man's sanity. Axel gestured impatiently. "I don't bite."

Hesitantly, Roxas climbed onto the chair Axel had hauled from the library and Axel helped lift him up. Together, they looked out at the wisps of white that floated past them and sometimes close enough to wave a hand through.

"They've all left," Roxas said quietly. Axel looked at him, but the boy did not meet his eyes. "Some of them, I had to persuade. They wanted to stay with me. I had to tell them it was better they leave ahead of me so they would be at hand and safe as well. I don't think my mother will bother to hunt them down now, not when she knows that I'm finally ready."

"Ready? You're leaving?"

"I have to. I have to meet her." Absently, Roxas wiped a trace of moisture from the windowpane, leaving the smeared imprint of his palm. "I have to destroy her."

"You sure you're ready? We could have waited it out, you know. This castle's stocked, everyone would have been fine here for at least a couple of days if not weeks, you could have…I don't know…talked to them, read more especially with Bookworm up there to help you."

"Axel," Roxas interrupted. "She already knows."

"What?" Axel turned sharply. "Knows what? That everyone's free?"

"The moment her enchantment failed, she felt it. I don't know what she'll do now, but I'm not going to be able to take her by surprise."

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

Roxas did not answer for a long time. "No."

There seemed very little to say after that. Sure, Axel could have thrown a fit, expressed shock and horror and dismay, but what would that accomplish?

"It wasn't that hard." Damn it all; Roxas was still refusing to look at him, even though he certainly must have felt Axel's gaze upon him for quite a while now. He was still looking out the window. Beautiful as the view was, Axel doubted the prince was actually that fascinated with the scenery.

"For all their protests, it was actually quite easy to convince them to leave." Roxas paused. "I think I scared them a little."

"Bullshit."

Finally. That got his attention. "If that's all it took to scare them, I can't say that I think much of their courage. No offense, Roxas, but you're as scary as a kitten. Sure, you may have got the claws of a tiger, but you…" 

"I what? What do I have, Axel?" It may have been Axel's imagination, but there was an ironic quirk to Roxas's raised eyebrow.

Axel reached forward boldly and tapped Roxas's chest. "This. A better heart than all can boast they possess."

Roxas flushed pink. Obviously, whatever he had been expecting Axel to answer, this was not it. "I…I…"

"Really, if they all did leave that easily, you know what I think it was? They weren't scared of you; they just all remember you being this little child that came to their knees. And now you're older and wiser than they all are."

"Not wiser."

"Yes, wiser. You know why?" Axel didn't stop to let him hazard a guess. "Because you're going to win. You're going to win and I know you can. I believe in you, Roxas."

Roxas's face had not lightened in hue, but now something akin to dread came into his eyes. "Don't misplace your trust so easily."

"Let me be the judge of that. I believe in you," he repeated.

"…Thank you."

Trust him to look away and turn this into an uncomfortably awkward moment. Axel sighed. "So when are we leaving?"

"We?"

"No, no. No. Don't even try arguing with me about this. You think you had an easy time convincing those people to leave? Trust me; your successfully convincing me to not come along will be impossible. And just try telling Demyx not to come along. He'll bleat the living daylights out of you. Going on about "firsthand experience" and the like. And Bookworm will probably follow wherever Demyx goes so…"

"I've no doubt of that." Roxas smiled faintly. "Did you think I didn't try to convince him to leave as well?"

"And I know for a fact that he's still here, yes. So?" Axel prompted. "You know best when to move out."

"We should leave as soon as possible. My mother's not going to wait around for me. I don't know; her men might be approaching this very moment. I would prefer to give all the people who've left more time to reach their respective destinations, but… Well, we'll also be on foot, so hopefully, that will give them enough time."

"You can't teleport us…oh. Right. The queen?" Axel sighed when Roxas nodded. "I suppose we're not coming back here. So…what? Are we leaving tomorrow then?"

"Preferably."

Axel looked out. "Huh. It just occurred to me. This will be the first time you've…you know. Left the castle."

"Yes. And hopefully, the last time."

"Is that your wanting to stay here or never return?" When Roxas stayed silent, Axel regretted his asking. "I'm sorry. Was that too personal a question?"

"No. I was just thinking." Roxas laughed suddenly, not too mirthfully, more out of surprise. "Is it strange that I've never thought about this even though I've lived here almost all of my life? I guess I could call this place home, but it's also been my prison. There are…too many bad memories here for me. It's where I learned to speak, to think, but it's also where I've watched everyone fall prey to my mother's curse. No, I will not miss this place when I leave." Roxas ducked his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with all that."

"I asked. And I didn't want a response in two words in the first place. …thanks."

They did leave as soon as the sun dipped and rose again. Roxas stopped on the doorstep and stayed still for a moment before stepping over. No lightning, no triumphal music blared. Funny though, the wind did not seem to bother them this time. It was still present, funneling through their clothing and whipping through their hair, but it seemed subdued. Roxas did not even seem to notice it nor realize how many souls had nearly been blown to their death from this ridiculously long staircase. None of the other three cared to enlighten him right now.

Axel couldn't help it; even before completely reaching the last step, he was already looking around, swiveling his neck, looking for any sign of the blonde and…whatever name you applied to a pink-haired man, for gods' sake. No sign. All that was left out of the short battle were the blackened trees and grass. Roxas did not ask; then again, he probably already knew.

They did not pass Xigbar and his crew's caves. As such, the journey seemed much longer, with no landmarks in between except perhaps, oh look, an exceptionally tall tuft of grass.

Every time they settled for the night, and while Demyx was cooing sweet nothings into Zexion's ear probably, Axel would turn and see Roxas a little ways off. A little huddled figure lost in thought. The first night, he let this go. The boy had a lot to think about. That is, until he woke when the moon was beginning to make way for its fierier kin and he realized Roxas was still hunched in the same exact position Axel had seen him in being falling asleep.

This was unacceptable. The next night, he stubbornly and childishly refused to sleep until Roxas did. Cue Roxas's protests that he needed to think. Cue Axel's retort that he would think better and more clearly after a good night's rest. Cue Demyx sidling up to him the next day and commenting on Axel's mother-henliness. Damn it; this was why his bad influence on companions tended to backfire on him eventually.

The gleaming walls of the city began making their presence known in the distance when a thought occurred to Axel. "Roxas? I know we're in a hurry, but do we have a few hours to spare?"

"Yes."

"You know Aerith?"

Roxas paled.

"I take that as a yes. Want to go meet her in person? Come on; she's not scary at all. Her bites, if she did bite, probably don't hurt."

"Why?" Roxas murmured.

"Because I want you to meet her."

Roxas did not look any less uncomfortable, but he seemed instinctively to know which way to turn. They skirted the walls of the city and as they approached the small cottage, a familiar person dressed in pink awaited them. She looked up, basket of flowers swinging from her arm as she stood. "Greetings, Axel. Demyx. And you must be Demyx's friend." She nodded at Zexion. "He's spoken quite highly of you."

"Has he, now." The look he gave Demyx was not entirely expressionless.

Aerith smiled. "Greetings, prince. It's wonderful to finally meet you, face to face."

"Y-you too, Aerith."

"I won't take up much of your time. I know what your errand must be and thus your urgency." She looked at Roxas appraisingly and Roxas squirmed under her scrutiny. "You're nothing like her, Roxas. Nothing at all."

Roxas blinked. "Th-thanks."

She turned her glance sternly to the others. "You all make sure to visit once everything's set right again. I will not have you going your separate ways and leaving this old woman behind."

"Old woman, psh. You could give most of the young'uns tips and have some to spare." Axel smirked.

She gave him a knowing gaze before glancing at Roxas again. "My home is open to you if you would care to stay the night."

To Axel's immense surprise, Roxas nodded. The rest of the day, Axel kept catching glimpses of Roxas sometimes, drifting as he was around the area. And, that night, Axel fell asleep straight away. He woke only when the sky was just beginning to lighten and realized Roxas's bed was empty.

"What have I told you about a good night's rest?" It took very little effort to spot Roxas once Axel stepped outside, bleary-eyed as he was. He sat in plain sight, a few feet away from everything else.

"I needed to, Axel. I—I can't tell you." His eyes flickered briefly. Axel shrugged, sitting beside him on the wet grass. "It's fine. You're the one who actually knows about these things." He looked up. "You'd think the sky would be more…dramatic today of all days. But no, nature decides it's cloudy with a chance of rain."

"Axel. Thanks for bringing me here."

Axel looked at him sideways. "You're welcome? I hoped it would help."

"I think so." Roxas appeared preoccupied. Abruptly, he asked, "Axel. What if I don't win? What if I enter a battle of sorcery with her and lose?"

"Then…I'd tell you not to think about it, but you're going to regardless. I suppose you'd die, and Demyx, Zexion, and I'd get executed if she ever caught up with us. Somehow I don't think she'd be as inclined towards banishment now. And then the people would have to suffer quietly until old age finally offs her."

"They'd have to wait long then," Roxas murmured to himself. Axel looked at him sharply, but chose not to pursue the subject. That wouldn't matter to him in any case. Instead, he said quietly, "But that won't happen."

Roxas just looked at him.


	10. Pyrite

Demyx looked torn, between best friend, as Axel was willing to let him continue calling Zexion in his little bubble of denial, and the scene of the action. Zexion refused to enter the city while the queen was still alive, and Roxas agreed with him. Who knew what the queen knew, and if she didn't know yet, through some miracle, that all those she had exiled were now free, well, better not to enlighten her. Zexion's lips drew into a tight line. "Demyx, I wouldn't advise you go into danger, but, if the only reason keeping you from this is my safety, then I certainly won't begrudge your going."

"There are monsters out here."

A tiny amused smile may have played over Zexion's face briefly. "Demyx, I can take care of myself for the few hours at most that you will be gone. And you will be gone for a much shorter period of time, I wager."

"Well, if you're sure, Zexion." Demyx took a step towards the castle wall uncertainly.

"Shoo."

"Alright! Alright, I'm shooing. Take care, Zexy!"

"I don't like this, Axel," Roxas said lowly.

"Yes, well, if we're going to get you inside without any guards taking notice and without your using magic, this was the only way I could think of." They stopped, the metal spires of the gate visible above the wall. "We'll be fine. You just do what you need to do to get in undetected."

"Be safe," Roxas whispered. Axel grinned at him. "I'll try my best." He began to stand, began to walk towards Demyx to tap the bard on the shoulder and haul him along. Roxas kissed him on the cheek.

Axel froze for a long moment. "Roxas…I…" Demyx had turned. "I…I'll tell you later. You stay safe too."

They, well, rather, _he_ stalked up the city gate. Slim chances they would not recognize him; there weren't that many fiery redheads roaming the land. He certainly hoped not, at least. As luck would have it, not only did the guards recognize him, he recognized the guards as well. Brilliant. And in all the fire and water flying everywhere and mayhem, yells, kicking of groins, Axel could only hope that they'd caused enough chaos for Roxas to slip nimbly in. He hadn't allowed for pain in planning this. Damn, they had some hard fists, these reinforcements.

It was, as they were brought up the front steps that Axel looked up and noted the differences. If she had had both castles built, although he doubted that this one at least had her meddling in its creation, she'd certainly hired different architects. And then a sharp pain glanced through his skull and he thought he caught a flash from an upper window, but both were gone as quickly as they came. Still, he could not shake the unsettling feeling that something had tried to pierce through him and very nearly succeeded.

Another variable he, they had not accounted for, Axel realized in muted dismay. There were people in the throne room. More than the royal family, long may they live, ha. There was quite a crowd of wide-eyed onlookers. Axel couldn't help it; before he could stop himself, his eyes swept the throng, looking for a flash of golden hair, unearthly blue eyes. In relief, he did not find one. Then he looked up, and his blood ran cold.

The queen must have been pretty in her younger days. Alright, to be fair, she was beautiful now, but it was a forbidding beauty. Whereas Roxas's eyes held the etherealness of the sky, hers were the cold blue of ice. Axel had seen paintings before, years before, but still, he could remember them well enough. She had been pretty in a welcoming way; eyes warm, a brilliant smile, heart shaped face. Her smile was tight on thin lips now, cheeks hard as porcelain would be and just as white.

She watched them now and Axel met her eyes with dread. She knew, she could divine their thoughts, any moment now, she would call the guards without needing to raise her voice and they would all die.

Just walk calmly, she had no real reason to become suspicious—oh wait, yes, she did. That is, if anyone or anything had informed her that these were the two who had run away from the city guards a week or so ago? Was it a week? He had lost track of all time…

"I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance, fire wielder." Gods, even her voice chilled over with frost. She turned her head slightly, regarded a pale Demyx with the same look. "You too, bard. Tell me why I should not order my guards to chain you and throw you immediately into the dungeons for setting fire to my kingdom." Oh. That. Right. His eyes flitted to the king beside her, sitting on his throne. He looked a mere skeleton of a man; was he completely taken over by his parasite of a wife? Was he going to do nothing? His head was slumped, almost resting against his chest completely, and he breathed shallowly, yes, but did not raise his eyes nor give any other indication of life.

…he wanted so much to just let loose a flicker of flame in this silent hall right now. Of course, it would be more than a flicker by the time he was done whispering sweet nothings to it. No matter how reckless, how stupid the move would be, the urge remained, tempting him from a dark corner of his mind.

Axel, this is Roxas's move to make. It's his fight. Just… he willed himself to stay still. He looked up and suddenly he was frozen. Her fingers dug invisible gouges into his mind even as her eyes bore into his. I know what you have been doing, firebrand. Did you and your friend and my dear son not consider that I would have felt your return? I had my hand on you for your entire journey. I watched you bring him here. Now I will crush you like insects and then I will take from him what I have waited fifteen years for and you will not be able to stop me.

Axel winced but, through the flashing pain, gritted his teeth and thought as hard as he could. _Yes, but you have no idea what's going to happen, do you? We may only be the pawns of some elaborate game of chess, Demyx and I, but Roxas is a player and he knows what he's doing. He's hidden from you, isn't he? You—_Demyx gasped as she began peeling the layers of their thoughts, shattering that foremost one of Axel's to pieces as she searched.

He is here, in this room; I can feel it. I will find him. Tell me what you think you're doing and I will allow your death to be swift. Else this pain that you feel now? You will be begging for me to descend to this level within a day. And I will prolong your agony. You will live for years in excruciating—she stopped. Where is your knowledge? You… Axel saw it, the exact moment when the realization washed over her. _You don't know, do you? This is exactly it. Demyx and I have no idea what's going to happen; hell, we might even die in the process. Only Roxas knows. And you can't reach him…_

Then I will kill you. She could do it. He felt his heart tighten within his chest, beating frenetically, bursting against his ribs…

"Stop it."

She wasted no time. Even before Roxas's hood had completely fallen from his face, she had stood. Without lifting a finger, she unsheathed one of the guard's daggers and flung it across the room. Give it to me, at last; let me drink of your strength and leave you only despair. I've waited long for this moment.

_Oh no, you haven't, bitch_. Her head snapped around, eyes dark and furious now. Axel chuckled painfully. _I think you missed a spot in my memory there, dear. It appears you don't know as much as you think you do. What, did you think that I, for some strange reason, managed to outlast your spell of possession, or whatever it was? Roxas broke it with ease, you idiot_.

You know nothing, she snarled.

"She didn't, Axel," Roxas said softly. The knife hovered a few inches from his chest before he reached out and grasped its hilt with his fingers. He fingered it thoughtfully. "She did see it. I could have shielded your memories from her, wiped your mind completely blank of remembrance. But then I would be dangerously close to becoming like her, and I refuse to even come close to that."

You are foolish then.

"There are some things," Roxas continued without pause, "that I didn't tell even you, Axel. The thought would have been naked, unprotected within your mind. I couldn't risk it; all would have been lost." His eyes were pleading. Try to understand, Axel; I'm sorry; I had to; I had no other choice, don't you see?

Axel winked at him. That seemed to do the trick; some of the tension seeped out of Roxas's shoulders. The boy straightened, pulling himself up closer to his full height. Not that there was too much of that in the first place, Axel thought impishly.

The fleeting thought gave way to struggling composure when the sorceress raised her chin and a flurry of knives flung themselves towards Roxas in a deadly speeding wall. Axel caught his breath. Roxas, strangely enough, made no attempt to freeze them in place, but ducked and tumbled to the side, trailing one hand against the floor to catch himself as he did so. Axel, move.

He tried to, he really did, and to drag Demyx along with. They were frozen, along with the rest of the people. Their faces registered terror; their limbs did not obey.

Roxas ran and it was then Axel noticed, almost fatally. He couldn't have helped it, he told himself later when sometimes the thought occurred to him as on the wind. He could hardly have controlled what he noticed, no more than he could control his unconscious thoughts. Little swirls of light were falling from Roxas's fingers as he crossed the room swiftly. The queen's eyes narrowed even as Axel saw, as she saw within his mind. She turned her head from her son to Axel and he saw his death in her eyes. The invisible hand around his throat squeezed…and Roxas dove in front of him. The knife clattered harmlessly against the air inches before his face and fell to the floor. The next knife drew blood.

Roxas winced and scrambled to his feet. He continued running, hand of the wounded arm outstretched, the other clutching at his shoulder. And the people he ran in front of, as if the invisible barrier he was weaving through his movement cut through his mother's spell like a knife, began to stir. Axel found he could stagger backwards now and turn his head to watch, able to do nothing else out of ignorance. The bystanders around him moved towards the barrier and he glared at them. "Stay back, you idiots."

A scream, that would haunt his nightmares in the dead of night, rang out and echoed in the great hall. Axel snapped around. "ROXAS!" The hilt of a dagger stuck itself exactly perpendicularly to the line of Roxas's leg even as he tripped and fell. He fell hard against the floor, hand still desperately scrabbling for the wall a foot away.

Yessss… The sorceress's eyes were bright and her lips parted. They parted momentarily before giving way to an open hole, stretching wider than was human. Shrieks rang out through the gathered assembly. Frantic footsteps echoed as this sight finally roused them to flee for their lives in fear of the unknown. Meanwhile, her lips stretched and darkened. No, Axel realized, they were not darkening; a column of darkness spewed from her throat, diving straight at the fallen prince, its body of flesh sinking bonelessly to the ground behind it.

Axel ran, knowing it would be too late. That deadly missile of black was too fast; he was too far away…

Half-tackling Roxas, one of the guards lifted the prince roughly from the floor and shoved him forward towards the wall. Roxas's straining fingers slammed against the stone and white light flashed. Axel fell to his knees mid-step, eyes screaming at the sudden brightness. It was gone as quickly as it came, but still left spots of color dancing in Axel's vision. He squinted. The room was no longer completely white, but something still seemed…

You foolish child, she hissed in all their minds, those of them that were left anyways. You are on the wrong side of your pathetic wall. And I will feed from you—the smoke wrapped itself against Roxas's shoulder and leg; Axel could actually see clothing and flesh distort as it tightened around the appendages.

Silence.

Axel saw it. There were no shadows. It was disorienting once he noticed, but there existed not even a sliver of darkness in the half of the room across from him.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? The darkness screamed in fury and its tail slammed against the barrier with a loud resounding smash. Roxas raised himself on one hand and coughed. "You made this happen, Mother. Your downfall now is only able to happen because of your own prideful mistakes. Shall I tell you why?"

Do you think these walls can contain me? Human barriers do not slow me; they are as air for me. The smoke twitched, next to Roxas's still clenching fingers, and stopped.

"Didn't you think I would know that, Mother? See, this was the first of your mistakes. You kept me deprived of thought for so long and thought that the damage done was enough. You never entertained the possibility that I would learn, and learn quickly, with the haste that came to me because I knew this day was rapidly approaching. You knew the raw power would come to me naturally but you never thought that I would learn how to use it effectively. You locked me away, away from you, and you sent those who worked against you to me. They did not teach me what I know now; such knowledge is beyond them." Roxas glanced backwards. "As wonderful as they are, they are still human. You and I…"

We are the same, son.

"No, we're not. Not here. Not now. I know what we are; we are of the same make, but you've grown gluttonous on your power. I'm not denying the temptation isn't there for me as well…but I still have my choice. I'm afraid you've made yours, and there's no changing it anymore."

You are a fool. If you know what we are, you know the glories and the magic that awaits you if you come into your _full_ power.

"Our stories must end sometime," Roxas said quietly. His fingers scraped against the wall as he painfully hauled himself to his feet. He leaned against the wall still, chest heaving, blood oozing from his shoulder and leg. "Even we cannot live forever. Oh, I know _you_'ve tried. And, really, I've thought about it. A prolonged life of fearful stares and loneliness seems ridiculous to me. I've had people show me kindness, despite your attempts at hiding me away from the good things in the world. I may be a fool, but I far prefer to have…friends than just gorge myself on power like you've been doing."

Pretty speech. But… she stopped. This seemed to be a day of unexpected surprises for the poor queen, Axel thought dryly and none too kindly.

"You can't leave here. Not unless I will so. I know you thought I'd resorted to a curtain of light guarding those here from you. I know that wouldn't have worked. You'd have broken through it instantly if you'd thought it a threat. No, I baited you and you left that poor girl's body. And now you are trapped. There is light all around you now."

And what do you propose to do with this fine trap then? You cannot leave without this spell collapsing and if you break even the slightest portion of it, I will escape and drink the blood of your so-called friends. The dark mass seemed to turn its head, or what would have served as a head if it were not of such an amorphous form. It flowed against the barrier, and the humans on the other side flinched away. They had no doubt that, if released, she would be more than capable and willing of immediately carrying out what she had threatened. She flickered and all the lights in the room flickered with her briefly. But they did not go out.

"I can't kill you. I can invoke other things though."

A breeze…no, a wind filled the room. Roxas stood, suddenly imposing, no longer the petite young boy Axel had grown accustomed to. His eyes burned deep blue. The smoke paused, and screamed, straining for the slumped figure on the floor before the throne. No, no, leave me this body; it was already dead when I found it; it is mine! You have no right to take—

"Yes, I do. This is my story, my life. I cannot kill you; you may live for as long as you and your sorcery can sustain your soul. But I can send you far away and you will never return. Your part ends here."

In a burst, the smoke lunged across the room. Little streams from its sides sheared away by the light all around it. Still, it held on though it was a tiny thread by now and darted halfway down the auburn haired girl's throat. Her eyes flew open, her mouth parted in a scream. "No, you cannot-!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. Another life, perhaps." Roxas looked up and the light in the room expanded, exploded.

There was the silence that followed, in the room, in their minds. A rustle of clothing as the light cleared, reverted to its normal levels and state. Axel cracked open his eyes and raised a hand. The invisible wall had vanished. "Roxas!" The boy leaned against the wall, hand over his eyes, in a perfect pose of a swoon. Axel caught him before he could complete the motion. "Is she…" 

"She's gone." Roxas opened his eyes. "She won't bother us again."

"Ngh, I have the worst hangover…Kairi! Riku?"

All eyes turned as the brunet figure on the other throne, the motionless one that, up till now, everyone had paid little attention to. The king sat up shakily, atrophied limbs struggling to push himself up. "Riku, what happened? Why's Kairi on the floor? Who…"

"Sora—" The guard that had previously given Roxas the literal, necessary push towards his goal now approached, eyes wide and hopeful. He stopped when Sora waved a careless hand for him to wait. The king leaned forward; he was able to manage that without too much trouble. His blue eyes were wide, his voice trembling and awed when he finally spoke. "I know you. …Roxas?"

What do you say in this type of moment? Hi Dad, first time you've seen me, huh. Sorry about the mess in here, what with all the blood and—oh, that female corpse lying a few feet away from you? I might have just killed Mom. "Father."

Sora stood, expression still dumbstruck. "I…my memory is so blurry. You're all grown up. Riku…"

"Sora?" Riku hesitantly stepped forward.

Sora paused, and in an astonishingly human gesture, entirely unlike his wife's mannerisms, wrinkled his nose abruptly. "Riku, something smells _awful_," he managed to say before his skinny muscles betrayed him and he fell back onto the throne.

"Sora!" Riku darted forward, as quickly as he had to catch Roxas earlier.

"He'll be alright. She's been draining him of energy for a long time now; it's only natural he's weak right now. Nothing sleep, food, and physical therapy won't fix. And that body's almost two decades old; someone might want to take it out before it starts filling the entire castle with its stench…" Roxas blinked and Axel loved him for the childishly innocent way he did so. "I don't know if I can stay awake," he said in a breathy, confidential whisper.

"Then don't. You _are_ allowed to be tired, or so I've heard, after saving the world, you know." Axel told him. Demyx peered over his shoulder, "Is it safe to get Zex—Zexion yet?"

"Yes. Demyx, would you be so kind…?"

"On my way, Roxy. Oh, by the way, that was…not to say that it wasn't awesome to watch, but do you think you could…later…details?" Demyx flashed a crooked smile. "A bard needs to make his living after all."

"I don't know that I can, Demyx. Some things…no offense, are beyond human comprehension."

"Fair enough. Axel, be good. I'll be back!" Axel made a rude gesture after Demyx's retreating figure. Even before he was completely out of the palace, the musician could be heard very audibly calling, "Zexy! She's gone! You can come in now!" Roxas rolled his eyes with a smile before his eyelids drooped.

Riku stared. "I don't understand—he's…Roxas?"

"The crown prince. Better get to doing what he says, kid."

"I—"

"So help me, gods, if you say that you don't understand one more time, I will singe your hair, pretty boy." Axel carefully slipped his arms underneath Roxas's shoulders and legs, and stood. Good gods almighty, he really had to shovel more food into this boy. "Well? I don't think just staying there with your liege is going to do him much good. Also, where's a bed Roxas can use? Don't even try asking me what's going on. Honestly, the only one who knows for sure is your long lost prince come home. And he needs sleep. So what do you say we all skip the question and answering for now and let father and son get some rest, hm?"

Sora looked up at Axel, albeit slightly awkwardly and upside down. "What happened…where's Kairi?"

"Kairi's dead at the foot of your throne, your _Majesty_. And you can get answers to your questions later. I don't think your brain's going to be working properly after more than a decade of enspellment. So, you know, sleep?"

"You're really impudent, you know that?" Riku remarked softly, dangerously. Axel looked at him. "Huh. You're one of the few who have actually dared to tell me that out loud to my face. Much applause."

"I've no doubt that the thought still resides unspoken in many people's minds though."

"Without a doubt," Axel retorted, smirking. Riku inclined his head. "Follow me. This staircase here." With Sora still blearily mumbling confused questions, understandable given that several years worth of memories must be cobwebbed in his mind right now, father and son were transported up the stairs and into the royal bedroom and guest room respectively. Axel placed Roxas gently down on the curtained bed and surveyed him. "Well…oh. Look at that. You made me go and forget that you were wounded. If they start complaining about the bed getting spotted with blood, I'm blaming you for making me forget. And for being the bearer of the blood in question. HEY! SILVER!" Roxas made a soft sound and turned his head, still asleep.

Riku poked his head in irritably. "What, Fire Head?"

Axel smirked at him. "A bit of healing salve and bandages for our wounded hero here? I'm sure no one would like him to bleed on the bed more than he already has." The silver head vanished briefly before reappearing and throwing a container and a roll of bandages none too gently at Axel. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to actually take care of the state of affairs around here now."

"You might want to bury that girl…Kairi?" Axel rolled out a long strip of white cloth and ripped it away from the rest with his teeth. Riku blinked. "I do have a knife if you need it."

"What? So do I. And blunt the perfectly good edge when my teeth will serve?"

"I can't tell if you're jesting or not." Riku paused. "F—what's your name?"

"Axel."

"Axel. Do you…do you know…was that Kairi?"

"Why do you ask?" Axel tossed back at him absently. The wound in Roxas's shoulder was not too deep, a mere flesh wound that had simply bled more than expected from a wound of this caliber. He carefully slid the dagger from Roxas's leg, taking care to keep it still, and a steady trickle of blood followed the blade. Axel held the torn edges of flesh together, pressing down, willing it to stop.

"I knew Kairi. Sora and I grew up with her. We were all best friends."

Why did everyone seem to be so-called best friends around here?

"We were close to each other. All of us. As if we were blood brothers and sister. You would not have believed how different she was from… And right when we began becoming teenagers, she seemed to change. She became more distant, first to me. She went off alone with Sora more frequently." A world of hurt flickered unspoken behind those simple words. "And finally she married him."

"_She_ married him. Not the other way around?"

"I never thought of it as the other way around." Whatever hostility, however playful, had existed between them had taken a hiatus to make way for this conversation. There were things that needed to be said here, secrets long kept so. Riku looked thoughtful, slowly working his way through memories. "Sora never seemed to show the slightest romantic interest in Kairi before they started going off together. And afterwards, both of them just seemed to fade away. Kairi…I never would have believed she could rule so cruelly and coldly as the queen she became if I had not seen it happen throughout the years with my eyes. And Sora just…you know, he loved to laugh. He was always the goofy, clumsy one of our group of friends. And he was the crown prince then, but we still all teased him for it and he would laugh at himself as much as we would if he broke a priceless vase and we had to all run for it. He was the sweetest kid you'd ever have known. And after he married, he grew paler and…not colder like she did, just quieter. Tired. That's the word. It was as if he walked under a perpetual cloud that steadily drained his strength away. That's almost what happened, wasn't it? Why Roxas said his father needed rest."

"I think so. But go on."

"So Kairi was the sweetest girl around, kind hearted, good natured. It just feels all wrong that she could become the heartless woman that, well, you were down there, watching as well. And that black smoke coming out of her mouth. What was that? Do you…I don't care if you don't know for sure, that Roxas is the only one who has all the correct answers. You've been closer to him than anyone here has, even his parents. Surely, he must have told you something…a clue."

"Not really." Axel lifted a finger from his bandaging at the beginnings of a crestfallen look on Riku's face. "But. I'll tell you one thing. You know how Roxas was locked away in that damnable floating castle that took forever to find? There was a spell placed on it. And she…Kairi, the queen, I'll call her for convenience, ordered that castle to be built, didn't she? And you saw her spell casting down there. She probably enchanted the castle as well. So, this spell. Demyx and I walked into the castle, stayed there, tried to work out what was going the hell on. And one night, the spell decided to make its attack. I don't know exactly what it did; it wasn't quite possession. But I dreamed what it wanted me to dream and when my body got up in the real world and began moving, I wasn't asleep, but I wasn't out of the dream either. I couldn't have controlled my own body even if I had wanted to. And I didn't want to. It was that feeling you get while dreaming sometimes, where you're just watching from a distance, and nothing can really affect you."

"And this is what happened to Kairi? Someone was controlling her…gods above, she wasn't able to control her own body for sixteen years?"

"Maybe? Do keep in mind that all I am spouting now is merely unconfirmed guessing. I don't know. Look, can we keep this till morning? I know your curiosity will reign unchecked and torment you until then, my heart bleeds for you, but my guesses aren't going to do that much good now, are they."

Riku sighed and beckoned. "Come on then. You get a choice of many guest rooms."

Axel hesitated. "I think I'm fine right here. Demyx, that bard that was with me? He'll be arriving with his friend sometime. They might need rooms." He grinned wickedly. "Or _a_ room, though he protests."

Riku ignored the barb, or perhaps failed to catch it although the man couldn't be that oblivious, could he? He looked uncertainly from Axel to Roxas and back again. "I don't know…why?"

Axel shrugged in what he attempted to pull off as a nonchalant manner. "Someone has to make sure Roxas sleeps safely to wake up the next morning."

"How noble and hypocritical of you."

"Hyp—what?"

Riku had vanished from the doorway. Axel momentarily debated rising and pursuing the knight, who appeared no less impudent than he accused Axel of being, but turned and glanced at Roxas. With his eyes closed, he looked like any normal sixteen year old adolescent, mouth a little open in sleep, expression calmly blank. Even as Axel looked upon him, the adrenaline and hype of the day quietly drained away and his eyelids protested at their sudden weight.

Within a minute, Axel had snatched the extra pillow and was fast asleep on the floor.


	11. A Touch of Unreality

"Axel, you could have placed me a little closer to the edge and slept on the bed as well." Roxas did not wake him, but his words were the first thing to greet Axel when he awoke. Axel sat up groggily, squinting against the bright light streaming in through the windows. "How'd you know…never mind, I don't even need to ask. And to answer your question, I could've. But then several people in this castle would have had my head for corrupting your princely innocence."

Roxas stared blankly at him. "What?"

With all the reading he had done, which Roxas still didn't seem to understand was a wonder given the short span of time he had performed it in, it was easy to forget Roxas had not actually learned any of the knowledge he possessed through experience. All of it came from books. And apparently, there had been a lack of…even cheap romance epics in the castle library. Even the largest library Axel had ever seen had standards, he supposed.

"I'll explain to you some time. Have you been awake long then?"

"I woke with the sun." Roxas paused. "I have been thinking."

"No scrying to start out your day?" Axel asked lightly.

"…no. I don't think I will scry casually ever again. Maybe if dire circumstances made it necessary. But I…never felt right watching people without their knowledge or permission. It was just, back then, it was the only way I had contact with everyone else. And now I can't justify that temptation any more. I have been thinking about…my parentage, mostly."

"Oh?" seemed the only appropriate response that did not pose the threat of being overly callous. "Well, you've got magical blood and royal blood in you. Which lineage were you thinking about?"

"Both." Roxas rocked back and forth, clutching his knees to his chest. "I'm an only child. An only son. So I believe I'm next in line for the throne of his kingdom according to your laws, right?"

"Well, not my laws, but yes."

"…I don't know that I want to take up the kingdom though."

"You're kidding. Why not? This life's been denied you ever since you were born, and now you get a chance to get it all back." Axel did not really care for the whole familial dynasty rule that a monarchy required; he'd never seen the sense in it. Sure, the kingdom might have one wise and generous king and then have everything handed over to his black sheep of a son upon the old geezer's death, and then what would they do? Well, there was always assassination, but that was besides the chief point. Still, he cared for this kid, and he was honestly dumbfounded that Roxas was implying a consideration of giving up a life of luxury and peace, one that had been long rightfully overdue.

"Axel, I'm sixteen years old."

"So?"

"And look at me. I have none of the experience that would befit a proper ruler and I would certainly not have gathered much of it in the years to follow before I would ascend to the throne. Also…" Roxas looked away. "The people would not want me as king." 

"What?"

"Axel, you know it. You're just not admitting it to yourself. The people feared my mother, the sorceress. They most certainly will fear her son, who also has her sorcerous blood coursing through his veins. They might accept it grudgingly, but they would not live happily under my reign."

"Well, bugger them! Who cares what a bunch of peasant half-wits who don't bother to see the truth right before their eyes think?" Axel was fully awake now and he sat up, determined. "Roxas, there might be stupidly prejudiced people who don't bother to think beyond 'oh, his mother was evil; like mother, like son, gods preserve us'. But I know what you're really like. I've spent all this time with you. You're kind to a fault. You're intelligent, by all means. You're brave, sympathetic, self-sacrificing… If they're not at the very least _proud_ to have you as eventual king, well, then they're bloody fools." Axel stopped, thought very carefully about what he had just revealed out loud, and blanched.

"…thank you, Axel. You may think that of me…but it's the good of the people that really matters."

"What did I just say about self-sacrificing…"

"And isn't a ruler supposed to think always of what is best for his people? Even if I were the most benevolent king of the ages, if they still distrusted me and lived under a self-imposed cloud of fear, I would not have done the duty properly. It's for the best, Axel. I know you think me foolish for turning down the prospect of a life as a crown prince and then a liege, but I couldn't accept it with a clear conscience." Roxas rose and meandered his way over to the window. The light blazed in his hair as he looked out, eyes seeing things that Axel could not, and the redhead would have paid an infinitely high price to have been able to at that moment. "And besides, this is all assuming I'm even still a crown prince right now."

"Why wouldn't you be? What are you saying; of course you're still a crown prince. Being away from the kingdom even for fifteen plus years doesn't make you…"

"I don't mean that." Roxas was still staring into the distance outside. Axel got to his feet and made his way over. He leaned on the window frame and followed Roxas's gaze outwards. They were highly situated in the castle. Down in the actual district of the city, little dark figures milled about. Most likely nobles and maybe a few hopeful vendors attempting to ply their wares for a higher price than they would be able to ascertain in their own humbler districts. High above them, the sun hung high in the sky; it was midday. Though Axel hadn't been in this city for years, everything felt familiar already. The faint bustle of the city marketers below, the place just felt like a welcome change from all that they'd been through the past few weeks into normal again. He couldn't call it home, not really, but it was as close as any. He wondered what Roxas saw when he looked out. Sure, the boy had been born here, but he had really seen nothing of it until now, hadn't he? What did he see? Did he see an escape from the coldly sheltered life he'd led thus far? Or did he see a foreign strange city, daunting in its lack of understanding for the magic that Roxas lived upon?

"What will he say?" Roxas said so quietly so as to be almost a whisper. His face looked paler in the sunlight. "I may be his son but I've never known him. He's never known me. We are as strangers to one another." He raised his hand, looked at it, long-fingered and delicate lines. "I just killed his wife, my mother. I can tell myself I had to do it, but what will he—what will my father say? What do I tell him to not cause him to hate me even more?"

"The truth, silly." When Roxas looked at him, Axel impulsively smirked and brushed a tuft of drooping golden hair from Roxas's eyes. "They're not all as dumb as they look, you know. Like that guard, you know, the one who helped you get to the wall yesterday? He and I were talking yesterday in here while you were sleeping. Don't tell him I said so, but his brain's not half bad. He's well aware that there were strange things happening with…the girl he and your father grew up with and then the woman his Majesty eventually married. So no one's going to be so dumb as to just scream regicide without noticing any of the circumstances. Hey, kid. Remember. It can't have been an easy ride for your dad either if he's been slowly drained dry by…his wife. I'm sure he'll understand. You just explain things and everything will be fine."

"…I want to believe you."

"Then, do. I'll wager the whole pot's worth on this one, just for you, alright?"

"…I don't understand. Are you referring to a game?"

Axel found he had to delay the enlightenment of Roxas to the rudiments of the marvelous pastime called poker. They did not know when the summons would come, as it inevitably would; they couldn't just stay in this castle as indefinite guests forever after all. But Axel thought Roxas had better things to do than confuse the turmoil in his mind right now by trying to learn gambling (and at such a young innocent age), so he left Roxas, with certain misgivings as he kept glancing over at the silent figure time after time, thinking to himself.

Demyx came to visit, not too late in the afternoon, dragging Zexion with him. Although, Axel had to say, the latter did not look entirely too unhappy at being, ahem, manhandled in such a way. "Look, I'm not going to ask for every single detail, especially concerning how you did all that and put on such a dazzling display of lights in the process because I remember what you told me and I'm not going to bug you into explaining something that we can't understand no matter how hard you try—"

"Demyx, breathe," Zexion murmured, though he looked very much as if he wanted to attempt to understand whatever it was Roxas thought their human minds could not comprehend.

"I am, but thanks, Zexy. But is she gone? Is she…"

"She's not dead," Roxas said slowly. "I couldn't kill her; she was right about that. I'm not saying I wasn't able to; I _might_ have been able to, but it would have cost me dearly. But I don't think I could have made myself…take a life, even a life as misguided as hers seemed to me. But she won't be coming back. There is no chance of her being able to do that now."

"So…can you tell us just a little bit? Dumb it down, if you have to. I'm curious!" So much for not bugging him about explanations.

"I…" Roxas fumbled for words. Axel nudged him. "Roxas. If you really don't want to, you don't have to." And he looked warningly at Demyx, who ducked his head sheepishly.

"I can try… Demyx, you're a bard, and you know all about storytelling, right?"

"So he likes to claim," Axel muttered under his breath just loudly enough to be barely audible and he dodged the kick Demyx aimed at his leg.

"Have you…spun tales about fictional places and characters then?"

"Not that much. I mostly compose stories and verse about figures in history as closely to the real story, as best gleaned from scanty reports and such, as possible. But yes, I think I've tried enough to be able to understand whatever it is you're about to say."

Roxas blew out a breath. "Then… when you have a character, a serving one, that only ever existed to fill a specific role in the story. Say, to hand the hero his map that leads to some treasure or other. And after the hero moves on from this town never to return again, that one person remains living, or so you assume, unless you say specifically that he died. But, he never appears in the tale again. Save maybe a few mentions _perhaps_, but his physical person does not."

"…how did you do that to her though?"

"I'm not saying I did exactly that to her. I was comparing. An…analogy, I think?"

"Oh." Demyx frowned, brow wrinkling in thought. "I don't think I understand how that would work on a real person."

Roxas spread his hands helplessly. "That's the best way I know how to explain it. I'm not…I'm not sure."

"It's fine, Roxas." Axel touched his arm. "You tried. I think…there are just going to be some things we'll never understand completely about that." He bent closer and said more softly. "Plus, save your breath for the summons."

He was sorry he even thought to mention it when Roxas paled at the reminder and nodded slightly.

"So what's going to happen now?" Demyx broke in. He shrugged when three pairs of eyes turned to him. "It's almost as if…everything that has happened in our lives has led up to this moment—well, not _this_ particular moment, but that dramatic moment. It was fitting, really, as if scripted straight from the leaves of a story. And now…in the aftermath…" Demyx stopped. He really didn't need to explain himself. They all understood what he was saying. There seemed nothing else to be done that could match the wonder, the finality of that moment. Nothing in life could ever be as vivid.

"Does it matter, Dem?" That was the first time Axel had ever heard Zexion refer to Demyx by name or nickname, and he grinned suddenly, uncontrollably. No wonder. It carried a running undertone of uncharacteristic thoughtfulness, tenderness, and general affection that, Axel suspected, had the man known about, he would have refrained from using in any semblance of public.

Zexion was continuing even as these thoughts raced through Axel's head and left him smirking like a loon (thankfully, no one seemed to notice. Well, Roxas did; the boy missed nothing, but he did not comment out loud.). "Even if our lives do appear relatively mundane after what we've all experienced, they still go on. It's blunt to say this outright, but memories do fade. Especially the memories of men. What seems amazing now in the immediate time afterwards may fade to only a memory of wonderment in a year, perhaps even a month. And we're remarkably adept at bouncing back from such strong displays of intense emotion. …Usually not an advantage, but in this case, perhaps we can make an exception."

He said it so softly, so seriously, that the stereotypical "life must go on" aspect of the moment quite left his speech. Certainly, Axel could not find the heart to comment sarcastically on it. He merely, for him, shrugged and said, "I guess. We'll have to see, won't we? There's no escaping that."

"Indeed."

Roxas said nothing.

The summons came a day later, once again, when they were all gathered, this time catching up on history and tales of a more innocent time of their childhoods apart. Axel happened to look up and saw Roxas's gaze swivel abruptly to the door. A moment later, the knock sounded upon it.

"So did the king send specifically you himself or did you volunteer for the job?"

Riku glanced at Axel. There was a shared confidence in their exchange now. They snipped, but during that one conversation, some mutual respect had apparently developed between the two of them. Not that either of them would state as much out loud, of course. "In this case, he sent me. But I would have offered myself for this task regardless even if he had not." He looked at them. "You may all come if you wish, as his Majesty requests."

Demyx and Zexion were going to tag along, no doubt about it, Axel reasoned. Both of them were too curious for their own good, Demyx for his songs, Zexion for his personal knowledge and his alone. And Axel himself… Well, he wasn't going to let Roxas go into this confrontation without his being there, he freely admitted that. Not that he didn't think Roxas could handle himself; it was just…well, Roxas could take care of himself just fine with anything magical or even physical, but emotionally…he was only sixteen and even less well-versed in this area than others of his age given…you know. So yes, no way in Hades was Axel letting him wander in by himself.

"Your Majesty?"

There was a pause and Axel felt Roxas press against him, stiffening.

"Riku, I told you; you don't have to call me that! You know what? In fact, I am telling you not to call me that. I was never this "your majesty" to you when we were kids and never as a teenager."

"No, then you were "your royal highness", Sora." Riku retorted dryly.

"You know what I mean. Is…did you bring…" The king's voice went hesitant.

"Yes, I did, y—Sora." Riku stepped fully into the room and turned halfway, beckoning the motley group in. They all waited, none of them directly urging Roxas on with their gaze, but waiting nonetheless. Roxas felt it; he had to have. He looked up. Axel nodded at him. "I'm right behind you, Roxy."

"Roxas. Not Roxy." His mouth quirked and he walked a little unsteadily in, the other three falling into line behind him. Of course, Axel was immediately after him.

The room was as he expected a royal bedroom to be in décor, with tapestries of rich shades and dazzling colors everywhere the eye roamed. The shock came in the form of the wispy cobwebs also strewn everywhere. Immediately upon entering the room, the mustiness choked their breaths away. Only Roxas seemed unaffected and even he looked up with a brief widening of the eyes at these unexpected hangings.

A sneeze came from the curtained bed as if on cue. Roxas stumbled over.

"I know; I know. The air's terrible in here." Sora scrunched up his face irritably. "But apparently I can't leave this bed for a while yet, so I can't get anyone to clean. I mean, I wouldn't mind them cleaning while I was sleeping or even just lying here awake, bored out of my mind. But you have servants not wanting to ruin my dignity or something by seeing me in my bedclothes. It's kind of silly, but there you are."

"I'm sorry." Roxas said quietly. Sora looked at him, actually looked at him this time. In astonishment. "You're sorry—why are you sorry? What in the world is there for you to be sorry for?"

Roxas shrugged a little, a small one-shouldered lift. He didn't look up, his eyes turned fixedly downwards. "That…you have to remain confined to bed. For…the things Mother did to you, to everyone." He paused. "Are you…do you hate me for killing her?"

"Wha—" Sora cut himself off with a sharp inhalation of breath. Roxas flinched and Axel tightened his grip on the boy's shoulders. He could see what Roxas refused to and that was the look of pure bewilderment in the king's eyes. He may be in his mid-thirties, but Sora was as innocent as a child in a way. Ah, well, like father, like son. Axel could read that wonder and interpret it correctly not as surprise at the news of his wife being dead by his son's hands. He already knew that. No, what shocked him was that Roxas would think- 

"Roxas. Look at me, please?" When Roxas reluctantly, and after a long moment, raised his head slowly and met his father's gaze, Sora again gasped slightly. Axel again knew the feeling. Even now, he could not meet Roxas's eyes without a little thrill going through him at the _glow_ that would light up his vision. Sora stared in awe.

"Sora?" Riku prompted him from his leaning station against the wall.

Sora shook himself visibly. "Sorry! Sorry, I—" His smile was surprisingly sweet and suddenly Axel could see the boy that Riku had described to him. A little naïve, a heart too big for this world, still living there behind the drawn cheeks and eyes just beginning to crinkle at the corners. And this boy looked a lot like Roxas.

"It's just…I can't believe it. Roxy, I could never hate you." Roxas's gaze had begun to slowly wander vaguely towards the floor again, but now he looked up sharply. Sora smiled at him. "I…I never got to know. I'm the one who should be sorry for that. But you're my son, Roxy. And I don't remember all that's happened, but I know Kai—she didn't treat you very well." His eyes clouded. "And for that I'm sorry, Roxas. I wish…I wish I could make up for all these years, when I never got to treat you like I always wanted to treat my son." His hand was far too frail for that of a man in the prime of his life when he withdrew it from under the covers and placed it on Roxas's. Roxas nearly jumped. He looked up and his breath quit on him. Those were tears in Sora's eyes as they looked at each other. But why…

"Forgive me, Roxas? For…for all the things I've never done for you. I promise I will try to make it up to you. Whatever you want, if I'm able to give it, I will."

"You don't have to," Roxas murmured.

Sora just looked at him. "Allow me to do this one thing for my son. Please."

"No!" Roxas's tone was vehement and he flushed when everyone glanced at him, startled. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "…please don't offer that to me. At least…not until I've told you…what I need to tell you."

"…okay?"

"None of us will interrupt you, prince," Riku interjected. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked forward. Yes, he had somewhat interrupted his royal Majesty, at the very least, spoken out of turn, but Sora did not seem to mind and Riku's expression dared anyone to comment. Axel was tempted to, just at that, but perhaps wisely chose to refrain.

Roxas felt the tug on his sleeve and half turned. Axel swept his hand across the unoccupied side of the divan and raised an eyebrow.

"You're more than welcome to sit, Roxas." Sora murmured amusedly from the bed.

Roxas sat and Axel watched with curiosity as he immediately brought his legs in close to his body and clasped his arms around them. He assumed this position, to the eye, entirely unconsciously. "I…I'm not sure where to begin." Roxas laughed suddenly, a little nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry. It's kind of laughable. I've been dreaming about this moment for such a long time, even years, and never really thought about what I would do if it happened." He paused and Axel saw the thought of fleeing cross his eyes fleetingly. "Maybe start with what you told us that night? About what you remember from your childhood." Axel prompted him quietly.

The boy glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, and the brief glimpse of blue was more than enough to successfully convey his immense gratitude. "I guess." And he retold the tale that was now familiar to Axel and Demyx. But again as he did so, and more intensely this time, Axel saw again the memories unravel as if they belonged to his own mind as Roxas spoke. The darkness, the silence, the coldness, the fear. And then Roxas turned his story to even more familiar events, Axel and Demyx's own arrival, the events of the fateful night, the breaking of the enchantments, then, with the addition of Roxas himself and Zexion, the four's journey back to their city of origin. It was here that Roxas began a part that none of them were acquainted with before and Axel listened with interest.

"It…I had searched for many months for a way to defeat her…my mother's sorcery. I…she's had many hours to thrive in her reign and she had much power at her disposal. I didn't know how I could do it, me, untrained, young, untested. I just knew I had to. I was the only one who possibly could, and if I wasn't able to…" He said this without arrogance, without pride, just a simple statement of facts and even a touch of shame. "So I read. A lot. There were many books on sorcery, but nothing on…the raw magic that she possessed. And certainly nothing on how to best her. So I had to think. I didn't think that any runes or written spells could defeat her; she would be able to see the threads composing the spell immediately and rip them to shreds. …and when I broke her spells upon the castle in the air that confined me and the many she'd sent there over the years, I knew this to be confirmed. I…I did the same thing. And if I could do it, I knew that she could as well. It's the way our sorceries work. So I had to figure out what possibilities, if there were any, that would bewilder her abilities. That had to be immune to her touch. And that was it. Immune to her touch. I thought of it very late, already while we were on our way here. And I had very little time to prepare.

Father… you should know this, even if she had kept you under an enchantment for most of the years I've been in this world. She…it became tangible around her eventually. Even if she had all the power in the world, she could not have drawn that power from nothingness. The raw magic had to come from somewhere. And I had some help figuring out what to do from there. Axel."

Axel started.

"I…Aerith did help me at the critical moment. It seemed so obvious once I realized. She told me while we were talking that I was nothing like my mother. Nothing at all. I suppose she could've been merely reassuring me, but…I think she knew. She knew what those words would mean to me. I couldn't touch her with any of the same powers she possessed. So I had to draw on the source, a direct opposite to hers, something she could never touch, never put out."

Light. Of course. Axel said nothing still; he almost did, but this was Roxas's moment; he could not interrupt it.

"I know you're all thinking it now." Axel could have sworn Roxas's gaze flickered to his especially. "I took a simple charm, one that protected against evil spirits and other forces of darkness, and worked with it all the way. Normally, she would have shattered it like glass, torn apart the framework that held it up as soon as she bent her mind to it. Which is why I had to make her think it wasn't worth the effort. I used it to protect everyone and let her think that was a last gasp effort. And I lured her out of her body. And then I trapped her with light. Not permanently. She could have broken free with time and sacrifice." Roxas paused. "I could have killed her that way. I could have gathered all the light in the world and surrounded her with it, leaving her not even one shadowed corner to hide in. But then I would have unsettled the balance of the elements as she had, only in the opposite direction. And that would have been no better act than the one she had performed. So I couldn't kill her. I…I don't think I could have. Maybe. But we'll never know. So I sent her away. I…I can't explain how. I tried, to Zexion, and Demyx, and Axel earlier, and they didn't really understand…"

"It's okay, Roxas. Keep going if you don't think you can explain."

"She's still alive. …And I can't promise that she'll stay away forever. But for as long as I'm alive and reachable, she won't be able to bother this city."

Riku leaned forward, eyes bright with that feverish anxiety Axel had glimpsed the evening before. "But who is she? You're not speaking of Kairi, are you? Where _is_ Kairi then? …or even where was, I suppose."

"Kairi…she was your friend, wasn't she?"

"…you said 'was'."

Roxas bowed his head. "I did. Kairi…I only know her now for the body she provided. A vessel. Best as I can tell, Kairi died years ago."

Both Riku and Sora shifted, but said nothing. Roxas glanced at each of them both in turn slowly before continuing softly. "I can't tell you how. I could maybe pull a lingering memory from what's left of her, but…it's been too long. Riku, is it? You went down last night after everything else was taken care of, didn't you?"

"I did." Riku hesitated. "She… I had to…"

"Once my mother's magic had left her, time began reasserting its authority, I think. She was little more than bones by the time you went down again, I should say." Roxas didn't look up, but Riku gave a curt nod anyway. "She died. Maybe of natural causes. I…I hope so. And…you all saw the incorporeal form that _she_ could take on yesterday. Except, maybe…did you…Father?" He spoke the word hesitantly and trippingly. "One thing I don't know is how awake you were for all these years…especially towards the end."

Sora sat up, whined and pressed a hand to his forehead. Riku's outstretched hand gently waved him back down, and he did so reluctantly and slowly. "I…it all feels like a blur. I can remember little vague things, nothing really clearly. …oh, right. You were asking…no, I don't remember anything of yesterday until I was in the throne room and you were there and Kairi…Kairi's body was on the floor."

Roxas nodded. "My mother is old. She…she's lived beyond her rightful years, really. What remains of her now in this world, she keeps going through sorcery and coercion. But she couldn't keep her physical form long enough. Eventually, it rotted away to dust, and she could wander unbound by flesh. …no one can live without a body for long though. There's a reason souls don't go around wandering by themselves for centuries on end. Without a body, the mind tends to roam and very easily forget its physical place in its thinking. Too far, and the void takes you. The strong-willed can avoid this for longer than most, obviously, but even they end up lost in nothingness in the end. So she was probably in the vicinity when Kairi died and she seized the chance and caught up the soulless shell before death could fully claim it. And she lived in that form for sixteen, seventeen years until…until yesterday. She's out there somewhere. I don't know if she'll find herself a new body to control, or whether she'll…like I said. Lose herself before then."

They were silent. The eeriness of the unknown pervaded the room, as the unbidden thought of that vast, not even darkness, but nothingness swept before them.

"…wait. That means… Oh gods."

Their eyes turned to the countenance of the king. Riku turned sharply. "Sora?" Sora's face was turning a very visible unhealthy green. His eyes were wide. "Riku," he whispered pathetically. Riku softened his tone as he bent before his liege. "What is it, Sora? What's wrong?"

"That means…Kairi's been dead for fifteen years."

Riku's expression altered, turned to one of bewilderment. "Yes…Roxas just said that, Sora."

Sora waved his hands frantically. "No, don't you see what that means? We had Roxy! Which means she was pregnant! Kairi, or whoever. Roxas's mom. But she was in Kairi's body. Which means…"

Riku still had not wavered from that lost and confused look. "Yes. So? I don't understand what point you're trying to make."

Sora's voice lowered into a panicked whisper; little good that it did for all in the room could still clearly hear his next words. "Riku, that means I mated with Kairi and she was dead." He bit his lip. "I think I want a bath now, with that thought."

With that, the tension in the room snapped. Riku's face relaxed into relief and not without amusement. "Of course, Sora. If you wish." He gave the rest of them a stern look, all of whom were concealing various degrees of amusement. Even Zexion sported a wide smirk as Demyx, beside him, badly concealed his entire frame shaking with laughter. Axel did not even bother trying to hide his maniacal grin when Riku's scrutiny fell on him. Only Roxas looked somewhat close to composed, a tiny pursed smile the only sign that he found this entertaining in some form. Riku sighed. "Roxas? Anything else you can tell us then."

"…nothing urgent nor that relevant to what I've just told you, no."

Riku began to wave them off before his spine stiffened and he remembered himself. He turned back to the bed. "Sora, unless you have further things to…"

"I do! I remember!" Sora again sat up, slowing abruptly this time, a small frown crossing his face at the effort necessary. Riku reached out, but Sora waved him back. "Roxy? Can your old dad have a hug?"

Roxas's eyes went wide. Not obviously; Axel could only tell because he had practically memorized Roxas's every facial expression by now from close study. He nudged Roxas from behind. Go on. Roxas tottered a little as he walked the short distance to the bed. He was trembling as he leaned over. Sora's arms immediately swept around his neck and gripped him close.

For moments, Roxas remained tensely braced, ready to flinch. But his frame unexpectedly went liquid, and his own arms wrapped around his father's frail frame tightly. It was Sora who pulled away first and held him at arm's length. They stared at each other, father and son. Demyx and Zexion had to be seeing this as well, right? The similarity of their faces couldn't be striking only Axel just then. Placed side by side like that, the ethereal blueness of Roxas's outshone Sora's sky blue, warmer and more human than his son's but dimmer in comparison, much dimmer. Roxas seemed not very real, a glimpse of perfection that could blow away any second…

"Anything, you hear me? You just have to ask. You haven't convinced me that I should revoke that offer at all, Roxy."

For a moment, Roxas's face contorted. Not to an extreme, but enough to cause deep shadows below his eyes. A little stir of panic rose in Axel's throat. Nothing too drastic, but just a deep, unrelenting urge to wrap Roxas up and protect him from all that could possibly wish to harm the boy, should anyone even dare consider hurting him, keep all the tears away. In another second, Roxas's mouth trembled and fell lax again, his eyes opened naturally. "Thank you. …Dad."

Sora smiled at him. "Huh. Never ever thought about someone calling me that before. You don't have to ask now. Think about it."

"I will." Roxas pulled completely away, slowly. His expression was unreadable.

They were already halfway out the door when Sora, sitting bolt upright again from the sound of it, cried in a startled whisper, "Riku!"

"Yes, Sora?"

Axel hung back just to hear this; they all did.

"…I'm a dad. Gods above, I'm _old_! I'm thirty something now, aren't I, and I don't remember half of it!"

"Thirty-four. Rejoice. I'm thirty-five."

"Well, yeah, because you've always been old and grey. But Riku, I'm not supposed to be old and wrinkly! Not _me_."

This would have been tragic if not for the completely over the top horror Sora expressed in a hushed stage whisper. As it was, his reaction was hilarious. They didn't run, but they did walk very fast down the hallway, carefully avoiding looking at each other until sound could not carry anymore.

They had not spoken about a particular topic for a while. You shouldn't have to ask which particular topic this was. It wasn't really the awkwardness or the uncertainty, just that there had seemed no need to speak of it really…ok, Axel was entirely lying, at least for himself. He had no idea how Roxas felt about it.

Erm, hi. You know the hints of attraction I've been dropping you and I think you've been dropping for me as well? I really hope I'm not imagining these things. So…want to try going a little further now that you're done saving the world?

…no. Just no.

So, about that kiss.

No.

Axel slammed his head against a bedpost.

"Are you…should I come back later, Axel?"

"You're not interrupting anything constructive. Except maybe me making my skull a tad easier to break for any of my enemies."

"Well, I'll venture to say that that's not a very constructive pastime? Can't be healthy either." Roxas settled in front of him, legs crossed.

"Axel?" Said man blinked and quickly, and rather in a panic, reassured himself that he had not been staring directly at Roxas when he fell into his silent reverie. "I'm sorry, Roxas. I was…thinking."

"I didn't say anything. You just looked pensive."

"So, have you given more thought to your father's offer?"

"Yes." Roxas fidgeted, remnants of the adorable child that he must have been still there. "That's partly why I'm here. I wanted to tell you first. And maybe get your opinion."

"Go right ahead then. No guarantees I'll have any sagely wisdom."

Roxas might have rolled his eyes. It was hard to tell seeing as Axel shifted his gaze too late and only caught the tail end of the movement. "Sagely wisdom isn't exactly what I was looking for. So, um, I know I don't want gold or riches or anything like that."

"Pity. I hear the hearts of many a miser breaking at that."

"How heartless of me." Ok. That. That was definitely sarcasm. Axel grinned. "I'm being a bad influence on you, aren't I?"

"What do you mean?" Ah. Oh well. Still needed a little work.

"It's fine. Sorry; I interrupted you. Please, continue."

"I…long story short, I plan on asking him for the castle. Yes, the one I grew up in. I think I know how to move it and stop its movement, or at least alter its movement so it doesn't float further and further away from everything."

Axel blinked. "Why?"

"I…despite everything, I've realized that it feels awkward being away from it. It's been my home for years and it feels like home. Besides. Zexion would have a heart attack if I let all those books just float away."

"But…your mother…"

"She didn't build it, Axel. I don't know what people have been saying, and, yes, I know some of the rumors that have been spoken about me and the whole ordeal. But someone else put that library there. I guess she just didn't think I'd ever become much of a threat even with that at my disposal."

"But she thought wrong. Worst of luck to her. The memories won't bother you?"

"Memories can be overshadowed. There's still time to create more enjoyable ones in the place I call home. I…" Roxas then proceeded to mutter something rather quickly under his breath.

"Roxas, if whatever you just said was meant for my ears, know that I have human ears. Not ears adapted to hear the footsteps of an ant."

The prince flushed and raised his hand. He stopped mid-gesture. "I…alright, I'm not going to take the easy way out. I said…asked if you'd like to create them with me."

Axel's heart stopped. Not literally, calm down. It did skip a few pulses though, perhaps. A million things he could say bubbled up within his throat and perhaps, in other lives, each of them had received a tasting, but the one that he blurted out in this life was, "Easy way out?", the silliest, most irrelevant thing he could have seized upon, of course.

Whatever Roxas thought of that, none of his thoughts flying across his expression stayed long enough for Axel to catch. "I…almost just let the words echo closer to you so I wouldn't have to say them myself again. But you deserved more than that." He ventured a glance upwards and something he saw in Axel's face must have made him nervous for he began elaborating rather hurriedly. "It's…you don't have to live there if you don't want to. It's just, I'd at least like you to visit once in a while. But you once told me, maybe you don't remember, but one night when we were talking, you mentioned that you didn't really have any ties to a person or place and I wondered if you could—"

"Of course." Axel finally found his voice again. Or perhaps stole Roxas's, for at that same moment, the boy seemed to lose his. He parted his lips, closed them again, and just stared.

Once upon a time, when he'd seduced young maidens and fellows alike, he would not have missed this opportunity, not on his life. He would have immediately seized the moment and plundered conveniently slack lips that, really, never offered any protests. Not when he was giving them such intimate pleasure. He was halfway there.

"May I?" he whispered, and though he purposefully remained enough of a distance away that this should not have directly affected Roxas. Still, Roxas reacted as if he could actually feel Axel's face close to his, Axel's breath on his lips, and he shivered. "I…yes."

"I'm not initiating anything if you're at all unsure." Had anyone who'd met him before heard his words in that moment, their jaws would have dropped and their eyes popped out of their heads and gone rolling on the floor. Needless to say, none of these people did and thus a catastrophe of sorting out whose eyeballs were whose was averted.

"I'm sure." Some of the pink vanished from Roxas's face and throat, and Axel would have sworn that the next glance he threw at Axel was, at the very least, sly, if not coy. "I was not _entirely_ out of my mind that night if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought no such thing!" Axel protested, and so it was that for the second time in history, Axel didn't initiate a kiss and he just barely escaped being interrupted and shut up for the first time by one.


	12. Introduction

He would not have thought it was possible, especially not as the arrogant ass—yes, yes, he had just said that about himself—he'd been, that he could find a companion able to match and come very close to topping his wit _and_ only stir his desire and not his ire. For Roxas was brilliant. He drank in books and conversation as he would crystal clear water. And it showed not only in the subtle increases in his confidence in bantering with those close to him, but also in the many acts of sorcery he began quietly producing.

"_Father? Remember when I—"_

"_Of course, I remember! Wait. This is about your request for me, right?"_

"_Yes, Father. I've thought about it. I…want you to pardon those my mother banished from the kingdom and help them resettle here if they so choose."_

"_Roxas. I meant, for yourself. You didn't have to ask that. Anything that Kai—the queen established during those years I'm going to revoke. Everyone is free to come back. If they ask for my help, I'll give it to them. If she took anything from them, land, money, I'll give it back as much as I can. But what do you want for yourself, silly?"_

"_I ask for the castle that I've lived in for most of my life. I want to live in it and have your permission to tinker with it magically."_

"_Why—yes, of course, but why, Roxas?"_

"_It's home. Or rather, it's going to be. Axel and I are going to live there."_

It _floated_. A magical, migratory home. That was quite enough to satisfy the flicker of wanderlust in Axel's soul. What Roxas did to it remained unexplained, but whatever he did, the next morning, the castle began its slow orbit around Roxas's father's city. Axel never asked and Roxas never described the enchantment he'd replaced his mother's with. But sometimes, Axel would wonder suspiciously when it seemed the night before he'd lazily thought about seeing more of the ocean, and the next day, the castle would have begun a wandering meander towards the smell of salt in the air. It was their unspoken secret when the castle vanished from within view of the city on these spontaneous leaves.

Beg, whine, and cajole as Sora may, Roxas steadily refused his father's attempts to name him as his official heir. And, reluctantly, Axel had to agree. For one, selfishly, Roxas was far more available to him as he stood now than if he eventually took up the throne. Also, it was as Roxas said. People regarded them, the gifted ones, with suspicious stares as they trickled back before spreading out over the continent again. It was much worse for Roxas, what with his mother's reputation and rumors of his being a powerful enough sorcerer to banish her. Try as Demyx might, with his bardic performances, and Zexion's writing and the creations of everyone who'd been involved in the story and who produced such works of art, the populace generally nodded and applauded politely, and believed none of it.

"_Maybe, that's the way it should be," Demyx mused sadly, stirring little sympathetic droplets from the fountain. "They're like little children. Naïve, believing that their world is eternal and indestructible."_

"_Stupidly blind, in other words." Axel said, with surprisingly little venom._

"_If you care to be so crude, yes. And we…we know what the world is like, moreso than they do at any rate. And it's we who protect their childishness from being sullied by protecting them over and over again. And they will never thank us. The day they do is the day that we've failed."_

The gifted ones. Axel had no idea where most of them went. He knew about Aerith, of course, made sure to visit her once in a while. Sometimes, he knew, Roxas would vanish and visit the woman by himself. It made sense. She seemed to know something of the secrets that whispered in Roxas's ear. Roxas would usually return late in the afternoon during those days, looking calm, thoughtful.

Sometimes, he wondered about Xigbar and the rest, yes, even lightning bitch and flower boy. The caves were gone. The twisted, charred forest was decaying and little patches of lively moss covering their bark.

"_That? That was never anything to do with me or here." Roxas paused, chewed on his lip endearingly. "Well, not directly. Everything should slowly start balancing out now. My mother fueled her unnatural acts with powers of darkness. It filled this plane with too much of it and the dark magic began seeping into the land. That's why you…you and Demyx saw much of the fear, the panic among the villages, those monstrous creatures you had to escape from. Well. I guess it did kind of have something to do with me then. Light. From my birth, the natural order of things tried to rectify things by unbalancing me with light. Wherever this castle carried me, gifts remained less dampened by the forces my mother had unleashed. Your gifts weren't necessarily amplified. You'd just grown used to their weakened state, I think. I don't know if they're naturally supposed to be so powerful or if their levels just got all twisted around. But everything's going back to the way it should be now."_

"_It's a pity," Axel drawled. He spun a hand, watched the flame flicker to being familiarly now. Roxas reached over his shoulder and the fire obediently peeled into two, halves quickly regaining the size of the original as Axel and Roxas studied their hands. "Then again," Axel continued. "I don't know that I'd be comfortable about everyone running around with the powers of our gifts cranked up to maximum. I met…well. Do you know the lightning girl and flower boy that were practically at the foot of the stairs way back when?"_

"_I know who you're talking about. It's all as the gods dictate though. Whether your gifts will remain as powerful or diminish. They're still gifts, no matter what."_

"_Then I have more gifts from the gods than I'd thought I had."_

_Roxas's eyes glowed with more than just reflected flame and ethereal blue. _

And indeed, it seemed after even a month or so that nothing drastic had occurred. As if the land had always been this way. Axel actually chose to walk—well, alright, he had the castle go half the way, back and see. The swamp and forest were vanishing, less dark, less shaded, growing thinner and sparser. And nothing tried to eat them, "them" for Roxas came along and Axel had no objections.

The farmers still came out just after dawn. They still eyed Axel just as warily. Xion looked pinker, plumper which Axel mercilessly taunted her about and earned several slaps on the arm for. They were still just as glad to see the fire demon and his strange, quiet companion go. Axel was tempted to shake them, scream in their faces that their quiet little village was safe because of the people they looked so disparagingly upon.

But he didn't.

And sometimes Axel just couldn't stand sitting still and he would deliberately find a lonely patch of plain and set a quiet wildfire. Just barely within the limits of what he could handle, just enough that he could struggle with it and come out, panting, sweating, but victorious. He wondered, usually after showering off after those times, if Roxas ever felt the same urge, having so much power at his disposal and needing to let a little boil over.

But life…it was good.

A year passed and then more and still no sign of any terrible repercussions occurring as a result of…well, you know. No angry mobs rose up, no booby trap enchantments blew up in their faces, no sign of Roxas's mother.

Life was good.

He woke to find Roxas sitting at their window, pale sunlight barely beginning to seep in around him. Usually, what greeted Axel's sight upon awakening now consisted of a mess of blond hair and Roxas's sleeping face with mouth slightly agape. As he sat up, Roxas turned, but the light made it impossible for Axel to discern his expression at such a distance. "Dream, Roxas?"

"Not really." Roxas looked away. "I don't remember dreaming. I just woke up with a feeling…"

Axel let him take his time. The room grew progressively brighter as Roxas sat, lost in thought, and Axel pried himself out of bed, dressed, and took his seat at Roxas's side.

"Someone's calling me."

"Who? You don't think—not the ex-queen."

"No. Someone much stronger."

"Much stronger—that's…that's a terrifying thought."

"It's like the time when I came to you while you lay in fevered dream. And the urgency I conveyed to you that led you to me," Roxas mused pensively. "Not that this…whoever this is needs my help. It's more of a summons than a request."

"You can't tell them to kiss off?" Both of them knew he wasn't serious, that this was his way of digesting the information. As such, Roxas didn't reply directly to his question. "Axel, I don't know—I think I'm going to be leaving for a long time."

"What. No. No. First of all, I'm coming with. Hush, no arguing yet. Second of all, you're…what about Demyx? What about your dad?"

"Axel, I might be going really far away. Anything could happen. It's dangerous. And…I'll leave messages for them."

"Well, that's why you're going to have me along to char any monsters wanting to take a bite out of you. And no in person farewells?" Axel saw Roxas fidget. "That strong of an impulse, huh?"

"I've already sent the messages. Early this morning. I…please don't come, Axel. You could get hurt, and I might not be back for a long time—"

"Tough. All the more reason I'm coming along. Roxas, if you didn't want me to follow you like a lovesick puppy, really, you could have sneaked out while I was sleeping."

"…I didn't want to leave a note."

"You…oh. Ah."

Regardless of what occurred afterwards, when the sun finally came full into the sky, it found the castle, containing both Roxas and Axel, floating at the highest speed into plains un-trekked before this. And Roxas had to reluctantly agree that traveling without having to expend more of his powers or walk on his own two feet was preferable.

And he had Axel to take his mind off things in…certain ways.

Until they hit.

Roxas felt it first. Of course. It was his enchantment that was suddenly not there. Axel felt it when they started falling.

Vases and crystalline figures smashed into the ceiling and shattered to pieces. Air screamed past their ears. Axel's heart tried going the same way, pounding against his ribcage and straining upwards towards his throat. He dug his fingers into fabric and flesh. When they hit the ground, everything fell with a crash. Dust flew in clouds, fragments of glass and wood raining from above. Something creaked.

Roxas flung his hand out fiercely. Axel turned in time to see a bookshelf slam itself back against the wall. The resulting sound echoed through the ruins.

"We have to walk now, don't we," Axel muttered into a pillow. He swung a leg over the edge of the bed blindly and winced as broken pieces tried to sink into his foot. A pulse.

"Roxas?" He looked up to see Roxas scowling in concentration. A few moments later, Roxas gave up, shoulders falling slack. He shook his head. "I can't. The enchantment won't stay. We have to walk."

They picked their way around toppled tables and chairs, pieces of broken glass and ceramic crunching underfoot. Outside, the grass swayed and the sun shone with their colors muted. It was like a rainy winter day, minus the rain and in the form of a bad abstract artist's rendition.

"So, any idea where we're going?"

"The only other thing in sight besides flat plains sounds good." Yes, Roxas had successfully picked up the finer points of sarcasm from the master himself in the years since. Axel followed Roxas's pointing finger. "And we have to walk there? No magical form of transportation or teleportation?"

"Enchantments won't last. I tried. Instantaneous magic though…"

Instinctively, Axel reached out and took the proffered hand. The world wrenched diagonally. Caught between light and dark. Nowhere and everywhere at once. His body was compressed into the tiniest pinprick possible and encompassing the entire world. He landed on his hands and knees and relievedly felt his fingers break blades of grass in their grip. "Let's…" he coughed and held back a retch. "I take it back. Let's walk."

"I'm sorry!" Roxas helped him up, looking stricken. "It wasn't supposed to feel that way."

"It worked though from the looks of it." From up close, the vague dot on the horizon now revealed itself to be a veritable shallow cave of twisted branches and vines. As they watched, part of the dark mass shifted and straightened. The man's features were aged. "Welcome," he said dully, "travelers. Enter and see the Well of Wisdom."

"Old man, your circus attraction is a little out…" The man was not listening and Axel and Roxas had no choice but to follow him deeper within the shadows. Ragged sunlight shone through crevices from overhead and they could finally see the light reflecting off a softly swaying surface. "Come forth and see the waters for which the All-father gave up an eye from his head in order to see into the beyond."

Roxas stared at the aged man, who stared back just as impassively, even more so, which Axel would not have thought possible until now that he was witnessing it firsthand. "That's not just a myth then? It actually happened?"

"See for yourself, dream-weaver. Peer into the Well of Wisdom and see what its depths reveal."

Roxas immediately stepped forwards and looked over. Axel paused and did the same over the boy's shoulder. It was dark inside, not at all clear like he had expected it to be. However, at the very bottom, light glinted off something small and spherical…

"And I must do the same in order to drink from this well?"

"That is the price that is required of all seekers of the water of wisdom."

"Hey. How do we know you're telling the truth? For all we know, you could have just cut the eye out of some poor bastard and tossed it in there."

"Axel. It's ok." Roxas grasped his wrist without looking. "How do we do this then?" He asked, once again addressing the wizened figure before them. His gaze was steady. "There's no way I can make it hurt less, is there."

"No. Pain must befall the one who partakes of wisdom."

Roxas nodded and stepped forward.

Axel yanked him back. When Roxas turned startled eyes on him, he shook his head fiercely. "No. No bloody way I'm letting you do this, Roxas. If anyone's going to do it, let it be me."

"Axel—"

"Listen to me. You're the one with sorcery, the only one who can protect us. I'm as useless as a gudgeon out of water here. What would I do if I came upon a monster, swat at it with my bare hands?—"

"Axel. This is why I have to do it. I won't be completely blind anyways; it's just one eye. And I'll have my sorcerous sense of the world to guide me. You would have no such advantage. Don't you see? It has to be me. I…I'm not human. I don't depend on my eyes as much as you need to."

Axel stared at the boy for the longest time, unmoving. The clear look of resolution told Axel that there was no way Roxas was going to relent on this point. "And you know this man's telling the truth?"

"Just trust me, Axel. Please."

"…of course. Forever, Roxas." Axel lowered his head and sighed. "Doesn't mean I have to like this decision of yours though."

"I know. And…I'm sorry that you have to be here. I…I wouldn't want you to see this."

"No way you're keeping me away. If I could bear the pain of this for you, I would."

Roxas nodded, quickly blinking, but even so, Axel still caught the shimmer in his eyes as he turned away, fingertips brushing his. "Ok. I'm ready."

His hand immediately shot out again to find Axel's, groping, clenching helplessly. Axel gripped his shaking hand firmly, feeling the bones of his hands grind together as Roxas squeezed it too tightly. A few moments they stood there like that before Roxas's hand loosened and he fell backwards. Axel was there to catch him. "Roxas!"

"Don't look," Roxas murmured. His hand twitched, red trailing between the knuckles. Axel looked from Roxas's face, features tightened in residual pain, to the old man who was stepping back, hand outstretched and dangling from his cupped fingers…

"You bastard," Axel snarled. He would have leapt up and torn into the man, heedless of danger or the fact that Roxas had voluntarily undergone this. He'd hurt Roxas, made Roxas bleed, torn Roxas's beautiful blue from his face and left a mess of red behind…

The man opened his hand and dropped his prize audibly into the water. "He paid the price for knowledge, heavy as it is. As with Odin, All-father, his eye shall remain here, a sign to all of the price he has paid for a sip of the Well of Wisdom. And now, drink, my child. Drink and see the sorrows that are to come."

"Some optimist you are."

The old man leveled him a forbidding stare. "I know all that was, is, and is yet to come to pass." He beckoned Roxas forward.

"Help me, Axel," Roxas whispered.

"Forever," Axel said just as quietly, gentle words meant for Roxas, and Roxas's ears alone. He straightened his back and lifted Roxas's light form in his arms. The old man's glare intensified. Axel ignored him and swept past. Deep in the depths of the well, a new shade, a bright electric blue glittered… A horn sat on the rim of the well and Axel dipped it into the water, watching the water rush eagerly into the vessel. Roxas raised his head as Axel lifted the great horn to his lips and sipped tentatively. His remaining eye widened and he raised his free hand and grasped the horn himself. Axel watched as the boy tilted his head back and drank and drank.

The horn fell with a clatter. Roxas remained still, unblinking, his eye fixed on a point far far away. "I…see…" He looked up at Axel strangely. Axel shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

Roxas continued looking at him, scrutinizing, and it wasn't that Axel didn't enjoy the attention, especially from Roxas; it was that he could not read Roxas's inscrutable expression. It was filled with astonishment and wonder, and an emotion he could not figure out. "Roxas?"

Eventually, he looked away. "I know…the knowledge I possess now is so much… I can walk now, I think. Let me try." Roxas took a few shaky steps, Axel always at his elbow unnecessarily perhaps. Roxas smiled up at him, the brilliant expression slightly marred by his hand that was still tightly clasped to his eye, and the blood that was beginning to cake around it. "You ready to go?"

Anywhere with you. Axel nodded. Roxas placed a hand on the outstretched arm gratefully. "Will my name be remembered here, I wonder."

"Definitely, if I have anything to do with it," Axel said dryly, and tossed a glance backwards at the keeper of the well. Already, the man was fading into the background, disappearing into his alcove of twisted and gnarled branches. He gave no answer or even any acknowledgement of whether he had heard Axel's comment or not. Either way, Axel doubted he would answer anyways. "Do you know where we're going now?"

"…I think so. It's not all clear to me. Wisdom does not grant omniscience. I know the realm which we need to enter, and how we're going to. I don't know what exactly may await us inside though. What manner of creatures, what landscape."

"Is that all you can see? I don't mean where we're going. I mean…in general. Any mysteries of the world you can explain to me without my head exploding?"

Roxas smiled dreamily. Axel was again struck by how complacent and wistful he could look with half of his face entirely bloody. "I don't know that I can… You know that we're not the only universe? There are so many more out there. Some of them can see us even; it's as if we're ants living in an anthill and a group of kids is gathered around it, poking and prodding at us with their fingers."

"Did you just compare the gods to a gang of kids?" Axel ruffled his hair fondly. "You blasphemer, you."

"Mm, not the gods. Think bigger."

"Bigger than the gods?"

Roxas's eye cleared a little as he began fumbling for the words to describe what he knew only in concept, not the human language. "It's…the gods are mere…do you remember? I know it's been years now, but do you remember right after I sent away Mother…And Demyx was asking me for details and I tried to explain to him how I did it, but never could quite express myself clearly. Do you remember what I said?"

"I remember. I don't remember your exact words, but…you said it was like removing a character from a story."

"Something like that. I'm going to extend the metaphor because I can. Imagine that this whole world is one giant story then. You and I, and even the gods are just all creations of an author, or maybe even several authors. These are the beings I'm talking about."

Axel blinked. Thought about it, and tried to make it fit in with his sense of the world as he knew it. "That…wow. How does that even work in the real world?"

Roxas smiled enigmatically. Axel rolled his eyes. "I suppose it's one of those things I won't be able to understand with my puny mortal mind, huh. 'S alright. So where are we headed to now? And how do we get there?"

Again, Roxas searched for the right words, when there were none. He looked up at the sky, the clear color that was fading dismally into grey. "I…we keep walking, is how we get there. I know that sounds stupid, but—"

"I trust you, Roxas."

"…thank you." Roxas's voice was barely audible. He cleared his throat. "…I don't know how to explain where we're going though. It's…it's a beginning. It's a place that doesn't really exist. Anything can happen, it can be anything. That's why, for all the wisdom I've gained, I don't know what to expect, not really. …you don't have to follow me there. It's probably best you don't; I don't think…"

"Roxas, when I said I would follow you to the ends of the earth, I meant it. That wasn't a cheap pickup line."

"You don't understand!" Roxas's mood had completely swung into pure agitation now as if he was suddenly realizing the implications he had not before. "I'm not coming back. It's like…I don't know if I'll die in there or not, but I know I'm not going to be able to go back. It's…my time is over. That's what I felt when I woke up. You…you still have your life ahead of you. You belong in the mortal world, not—"

"Correction. I belong with you. Where ever you are." Axel found himself strangely the calmer of the two now. "There's no way you'll be able to get me to leave now. Sure, I guess you could teleport me without warning, but just keep in mind. If you somehow manage to move me physically away, I'll try my damnedest to find you again. I'll walk circles around the world the rest of my life."

"This is madness, Axel. You would be essentially dead."

Axel lifted a hand and brushed away a tear that had trickled down Roxas's cheek apparently without the boy's knowledge or consent. Roxas's hand twitched on his face. "Well, if you're going into this, so am I. So deal. We go together." His lips quirked. "Whoever's going to be meeting us, if anyone, will just have to take this packaged deal. No bartering allowed."

"You stubborn fool."

Axel grinned. "I rub off on everyone. First Demyx, now you. Took long enough. So we keep walking, right?"

"…yes." Roxas sighed. "Fine. Gods."

And everything flashed to white. A sudden memory arose, unbidden, in Axel's mind at this sight, or lack of sight. Roxas…and the black plume of smoke that was the sorceress. The throne room. Roxas lowering his head and, with a gesture, conjuring a brilliant light that filled the entire room, their entire fields of vision. This was like that. Only, Roxas's spell, or whatever it was, whatever name you gave it, had faded in time, leaving only equally bright spots dancing in their eyes for many moments afterwards.

"Axel? By the gods, can you see this? It's beautiful." Roxas's tone was awestruck. "And there's raw magic everywhere, just waiting to be shaped. Axel?" His voice came a little nearer, rose a little in pitch. "Axel? Why…Axel!"

He was still astonishingly calm even as he raised his hand carefully and rubbed his eyes. "I can't see you, Roxas. I…I can't see my own hand. My eyes are open, yes?"

There was silence, an empty, shocked silence as even Roxas's soft, soft breathing hitched.

"Roxas?"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't…I didn't know it…"

"So much for me watching out for us, eh?" Axel immediately regretted his snide words when he heard Roxas suck in a breath sharply. "Roxas, I'm ok. There's no pain. Not like I would have been any kind of useful in keeping watch here for us. Even I can feel the otherworldliness, even without…what does it look like?"

Roxas was still silent for a while, and the guilt lay plain in his quietness. When he did begin to speak, the tremble in his voice was just as palpable. But he did try. "I…it's like a myriad of colors everywhere that are constantly changing. Not just colors…things. Castles. Bridges. Forests. They flicker into being and out just as quickly. And behind it all, just the purest of whites. Gods, it's…it's amazing. I wish you could see this."

"Maybe I did see it. The brief glimpse maybe blew my eyes right out."

"I told you not to come," Roxas whispered. 

"Hey. Hey. Roxas. Give me your hands." Axel carefully reached his hands out, fingers grasping a little until he felt Roxas's hesitant ones. The boy's fingers were icy. "Now you listen. Yes, you told me not to come and you were very persuasive."

"But not persuasive enough."

"No. Because, sorcerer or not, there's no one who can convince me to leave your side. Understand? And I don't care, I'm blinded, sure, but that's a whole lot better than having my sight and drowning my loneliness in some tavern back in the city. I _have no life_ without you, Roxas."

"That's not—"

"Don't argue with me. It _is_ true. Don't try telling me I don't know my own feelings best. Now. Are we just going to stand here or do we have somewhere to go?"

"…I don't know. I don't think it matters, whether we walk or stay at this point."

"Well, if it doesn't matter then, we can stay right here. Gods know I am sick of walking. For life, not just for now. You know that entire time we were looking for you, me and Demyx, I was swearing to myself that, if at all possible, I would never walk one more step than necessary for the rest of my life."

"I can imagine. I'm sorry you had to walk so much more with me."

"I'd walk a thousand more miles for you, Roxas…Got it memorized? Now, what's it like? Does it look anything like the dreary plains we were just trekking across?"

"No. Nothing like it." Roxas paused before tugging on Axel's hands tentatively. "We could sit." They did, Axel gracelessly plopping onto the ground. It was cool to the touch, and his fingers recoiled at the feel. Even without his vision now, the touch alone of this cold, strange world conveyed the utter unearthliness perfectly. No material was meant to be so hard and yet soft at the exact same time. "Is this what you were talking about? The landscape constantly changing, never making up its mind."

A weight settled on his shoulder, and he turned his head to inhale the familiar scent of Roxas's hair, a recognizable comfort amidst all the peculiarities. "Yes. Kind of. It's…it's completely white. It's like a land of utter snow. There is no sky. It's just shifting white. And there are things around us, Axel. No, don't get up. They're not dangerous. I don't think they're really there even. Just…not even ghosts. More spirits that haven't even been born yet. They appear and disappear just as quickly, always changing, never becoming anything definite. It's like a world of pure creation. …and destruction, I suppose. But no in-betweens."

"And what are we waiting for?"

"…something. Anything."

"Well." Axel closed his eyes, not that it made much of a difference. Even blocking out all semblances of light failed to fade away the brightness that had burned itself into his retinas permanently. "That should be easy then. Do you know how long we'll be waiting for?"

"No. Time doesn't matter here. Already we've waited centuries and barely a second."

"Ah. That kind of world. Heh. Demyx ought to be happy that such a thing actually exists outside of bardic speculation. …I wonder how he and Zexy are doing… What _did_ you leave for them?"

"I…told them that we were leaving. And I said goodbye in the notes. I did mention that you might return alone, and that I would try to convince you to…"

Axel snorted. "Well, if Demyx has learned _any_thing from having spent so long with me, he'd better read that as unlikely. Else I'll be very disappointed in his people-reading abilities."

He might have dozed off. It was hard to tell here.

"Axel?"

"Yes, Roxas?" Axel raised his head slightly. Somewhere along the way, he had lowered it and it now rested very comfortably with Roxas's nestled in between it and his shoulder.

"I…even though I still think you shouldn't have come, for your sake…I'm…rather selfishly glad you're here with me. It…would have been lonely."

Axel turned and kissed the top of the boy's head. "Of course."

And still some time later. "Have you tried playing around with anything yet? You mentioned raw magic floating everywhere. This has to be as tempting as a…well. It's a completely blank place, free for your sculpting."

"I can't do that…"

"Why not? It's not as if anyone's in the vicinity to be affected by it. There's only me. And I trust you. You know…it had to be stifling for you. You can let it out now, can't you?"

Roxas shifted.

Axel was about ready to go drifting back into the quietness when Roxas emitted a quiet, startled, "Oh!"

"What is it?"

"It's…I'm sorry; you can't see it. I…I wasn't expecting it to work. Here. I can show you more." Axel felt a light brush suddenly against his cheek. A dust of…wings? "What is that?"

Roxas laughed, and Axel opened his eyes instinctively. It wasn't Roxas's usual chuckle, or his soft laughter, but an unbridled, clear ring of pure delight. "This is amazing. That was a butterfly. Did you feel it? I couldn't make it last; it faded back into the magic it was born from almost immediately. But…gods, Axel, I feel like I could do anything in here." A droplet fell on Axel's outstretched wrist. A breeze swirled around them briefly.

Axel could see none of it, so he merely settled back and listened to Roxas's gleeful commentary. The magic of it…no pun intended, it was like watching a child encounter snow for the first time, an enchanting moment of childish wonder. A moment that stretched on and on…

"I can make stars…" Roxas breathed. Axel heard the faintest strains of music, could _feel_ the world changing around them. It was almost scary how tangible each change Roxas weaved was, so much so that the power of it all sent Axel's skin tingling.

"I wonder…" Roxas sounded far away, voice thoughtful. He paused, gave a little gasp of pain.

"Roxas?" Axel fumbled forward before small hands caught him and steadied him. "I'm okay, Axel. I was trying to fix my eye…or rather, lack of one. It didn't work well."

"Well? Did it work at all?"

"Yes…yes and no. It wouldn't stay."

"It wouldn't…Roxas, what did you do?"

"I…it vanished from my head again after a few moments. It didn't really hurt, not really, just the feeling startled me for a moment there."

That's because nothing _you_ create in here is real. Not for you. Not really.

Axel turned his head before his mind once again reminded him that doing so was useless without sight. "Roxas?"

He felt Roxas's hand on his shoulder, pressure as Roxas lifted himself and stood to face something, someone he could not see. "Who are y—you're one of them, aren't you? The one we've been waiting for."

Not waiting. I've been here all along.

The way the voice…not really, for there was no audible voice, the words, then, flowed right into his head with no pause for his ears… It seemed dangerously familiar and not at all welcome. "Who is this?"

Roxas's hand clenched. "Remember when I spoke to you of beings higher than even the gods themselves?"

"This is it, huh?" Axel couldn't resist. "Man or woman?"

"Axel…"

Feminine to your eyes, dear Axel. Or…if only your eyes were working at the moment, then I would appear feminine to you.

"Sure, rub it in." Axel's eyes suddenly narrowed. "So if you're this all powerful being…did you do this to me?"

What have I to gain from blinding you? It's not as if you could harm me anyways even if you were able to see me. No, you did this to yourself. Some things are just not meant for mortal eyes.

"You called me here," Roxas said quietly. "That was your summons I felt."

It was very adept of you, the way you dealt with your mother. She was not at all pleased.

"Really. I hadn't guessed."

No one wants to leave. Why do you think the science of alchemy was born? The secret to immortality… No one ever thinks about the consequences of living forever; they just want to do it. Say what you want about the ills of living through centuries of tragedy and exhausting your physical form until it is little more than a wraith. In the end, no one wants to face Death. His dues are a little too scary for anyone to face willingly. In a way…you're fortunate, Roxas. You know what awaits you on the other side. No one else in this world does.

"Mother did."

Well, she's not quite a part of this world anymore now, is she?

If a grin could be transmitted through concept alone, it did so now.

You saw to that, ever so expertly. A beautifully executed piece of work. I never expected you to go that route. Then again…circumstances didn't leave you with many other options. But still. My sincere admiration for figuring out a solution right in the nick of time.

"You needed me to."

The smile faltered, a scowl flickering through its curve briefly. Careful how you speak to me, dear. I gave you life, I allowed it, and to risk a clichéd, but true, threat, I can take it away just as easily.

"Then do it. I know what comes afterwards, remember?" The mocking note was now clear in Roxas's voice, just a tinge, but still there nevertheless.

That is true. That was also necessary from my standpoint. But death, the ending to the breath of life, is not the only way I can take life away from you. It need not end…but it can stand still forever. And you, Roxas, may be able to entertain yourself with the fleeting displays of power you can put on here, but will you be able to endure it for centuries on end? It takes only a snap of the fingers on my part, and I could make that happen. Would you be able to stand that? Would he?

"All because you don't like his tone? Really. You're easy to rile." Axel felt, actually _felt_ the cold gaze fall upon him.

How would you fare, I wonder, unable to see in a world of nothingness, forever helpless? Don't give me that idealistic nonsense about Roxas being all that you'll ever need to survive. I may not have taken your sight from you, but I could have and I can take away your other senses as well. Think it wise to cross me, mortal? As you say, I do appear to be easy to rile after all… I could leave you like this, only place you back in the mortal realm, alone.

"No, you won't," Roxas said quietly.

Her attention swiveled. Oh? You think you can stand against me? You with your petty little magic tricks? Do not forget who allowed them to you in the first place. With the merest of efforts, you would feel effects of unimaginable pain that I…I could render with a few words. Years would pass for you, but not for me. I do not feel time.

"You won't." Roxas sounded confident. "You gave to me knowledge. That was a mistake. Everything you know, I know. I may not be able to do as many things as you can, but I still have possession of my wits. And…now that I know about _you_…"

…you sneaky bastard.

Strangely enough, the voice sounded amused.

"Yes, you could do anything to us. But in the end, you know that you can't make us do anything we don't want to do. Well…you could. But I know about you. For all your pretenses, imposing your will upon others would prey upon you, wouldn't it? For all your powers, you're as human as the rest of us, aren't you?"

Careful there, Roxas…

"No. I'm right. Say what you want; I think you're bluffing." Roxas snorted slightly. "Please. Axel introduced me to poker. I've seen the kings of poker faces. You can hardly compare."

…

Coldness gripped his limbs; he couldn't feel his fingertips anymore. He raised his numb hand, tried to flex his fingers. Touched his face, and recoiled. Sharply. What should have been icy fingers upon his cheeks registered on his senses as ragged skin and a severe, increasing lack of digits themselves.

She laughed into their minds. What are we fighting about even?

The numbness vanished. His fingers jabbed into his cheek.

Touché, Roxas. I'll indulge in pride briefly in having led you so well. Little baby steps, but still, you more than made up for it towards the end. This is the end, you know that. It's your time. There's no changing that.

"I know."

"Wait. The end? You—you're not dying!"

"Not dying, Axel." Roxas's fingers weaved through his own, his breath very close to Axel's face. "We…I'm like my mother. And it's my turn for me to walk out of this story."

Axel grasped at his sleeve. "You can't go! You're…you're not even twenty-one yet. I thought…"

"I know what you thought, Axel." He heard Roxas sigh before he felt the kiss pressed upon his forehead. "I'm sorry I misled you. You wouldn't have let me come, if the full import of what I was doing had sunk in."

"Damn right, I wouldn't have! You…I mean, I know this damn bitch is compelling and all, but did you have to…really?"

Poor baby. You lie so convincingly, especially to yourself. You knew all along, Axel, deep down. This wasn't just any ordinary journey, any random calling. You came here to die. Well. If you'd like to think of it that way. It's close enough.

"What're you going to do?" Axel's voice dropped, low, soft, dangerous. "Kill us yourself? Come and get it, bitch."

Feel this?

Suddenly, he was drowning, inhaling water in a sharp, unprepared gasp. He choked. The ocean vanished, though his clothes remained drenched, and he still began coughing up salt water from his lungs.

"Axel!"

Oh, I like that glare in your eyes, Roxas. Care to battle against me? I warn you; you will lose.

Roxas's voice was even. "You're not going to provoke me into a childish contest. It's not about how much power I have over this dimension. It's about control. You can't control me. Hell, you can't control Axel, or Demyx, or any of the people down there."

No, you're right. I can't. Axel heard footsteps approach. I can't pull your strings though marionettes you may be. They're not for me to manipulate. But how free are you if I make you relive the same lives over and over again. And he will _never remember_. Nothing of what's happened. Not your friends. Not you.

Autumn was the season of fire, Axel reflected, not summer. It was true, that summer contained the heat of the year, but it was a sweltering, sticky, invasive heat—

"NO."

Axel jerked back, dazed. For a moment…what? He clutched his head. His sight was gone, that's right, Roxas, he knew who Roxas was. And he was…here, nowhere.

You see?

"You can do it; I'm not denying that." Axel felt Roxas's arms wrap around him again possessively. "But you won't. And we know why."

"We do?" Axel muttered sarcastically.

Very good, Roxas. Well, well. Heh. I think you've caught me. This was starting to rather drag on. I suggest you say some form of goodbye then.

"Hey! Don't I get a last meal, request type of thing?"

For a moment, he could see white.

Naughty, naughty, Roxas. Axel's vision blinked out. You don't want to provoke me, not after having gone through all that.

"Are you as heartless as all that?" Roxas's voice was dry.

Not at all. Not when _Axel remembers_. And she was gone.

Roxas's arms tightened around him. The sudden disbelief and wild hope that he could be right made Axel's heart wrench. "Axel?" As uncertain as a child still even after facing after that they'd…he'd faced alone among people who couldn't understand.

Axel tried; he really did. "…I'm sorry. I don't know what that bitch was talking about…Roxas?" It didn't hurt this time; it didn't even register as a sensation until he tried to move his hand and found he had no hand to move.

"No. NO." Roxas clutched at his face, pressed their foreheads together. Axel felt the rough edges where blood met smooth skin, little dry flakes brush against his face. "Remember? You have to remember, Axel! Kingdom Hearts? The Organization? You were number eight, you befriended me even when we had no hearts, we sat on the clock tower after every mission eating sea-salt ice cream—you have to remember that!"

The words flew past him in a blur of unfamiliarity.

"We promised we'd meet in the next life! And the next, and the next one!"

He would have thought Roxas mad if not for, well, you know, every crazy thing he'd seen throughout his life. No, I don't remember, he tried to say, but he was going. I don't know—all I know is this life and I know I love you—

Next life. Let's meet ag—Roxas? _Roxas_?

Remember, Axel?

I'll be waiting—ROXAS.

_I remember_.


End file.
